


Just Across the Park

by whitenightowl



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:19:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitenightowl/pseuds/whitenightowl
Summary: Jamie and Claire, both divorced and lived alone for several years, meet in modern Edinburgh.





	1. The Park

**The long row of cherry trees** , all pale pink with blooms, always made Claire think of her late Uncle Lamb and their trip to Tokyo years ago. It had been a little girl´s heaven as she had been certain the exotic city belonged to princesses and fairies because of that abundance of floral pink.

Blooming cherries had made her smile ever since and so they did in Edinburgh after all these years, even though the number of trees was much smaller at Meadows, the nearby park where she walked every morning.

Her favorite spot at Meadows was under the pink cloud of cherries where there was an old wooden memorial bench with a small plaque and names on it. She usually stole a minute or two just to sit there and inhale the scent of early summer. If no one was near she greeted aloud Ella and Walter Fraser like they´d have been her old friends, wondering if this had been a special place for that unknown couple as well.

This morning she was too busy, however, to sit there. “Stewie, my dear, should we get a memorial bench one day as well?”, she just asked, hurrying past the bench and smiling half-sadly as her always agreeable companion wagged his tail at the idea.

Stewie, her 9-year-old dignified senior dog, had just begun to show the first signs of his age. He no longer cared for running, so every morning they paced up and down the paths and she had plenty of time to immerse herself in her thoughts, admire the nature around her or watch other casual walkers of whom most were dog-owners during the early morning hours.

Claire had lived near the park for the last eight years so most of the faces were familiar and she knew their dogs by name. There was Pete, a fat black labrador, whose owner was a skinny tall man with a funny, high-pitched voice and Bella, an elegant tiny whippet, walking with a charming old lady, who always had bright red lipstick and a hat, no matter the weather. Sometimes they exchanged a few words as the dogs greeted each other with tail-wagging, whimpers and whines.

Claire´s whole life was within the walking distance of this park, really. Her workplace at the Royal Hospital for Sick Children was just a few minutes from home so there were weeks or months even when she didn´t cross the confines of one square kilometer. But she was content in every way. Content of her freedom and independence. Content of how she was able to to help people who needed her skilful hands and emphatic personality. Small children as patients - as well as their worrying parents - needed a doctor who was willing to care for them, not just treat their injuries. She had decided to dedicate her life to her calling, the thing she knew she was good at - that is medicine and her little patients.

Yes, Claire was content in many ways, but was she happy? Deeply, truly happy? Well, sometimes there were fleeting moments close to happiness. Naturally she was happy when she was able to save someone´s life and she shared the happiness of overly grateful parents who were crying with relief and joy when their offspring got better. But in her personal life - well, she cherished her odd little habits and strict daily routines even though she knew some of her friends pitied her for her seemingly boring life. “Why don´t you go on dates?” - “You should try Tinder” - “Lady Jane, you need to come out of your shell” - her best friend Joe was constantly encouraging her to meet new people and do something radically different. Since  her painful divorce from Frank nine years ago, she´d started to value safe over happiness and predictable over unpleasant surprises.

And routines were marvelous in avoiding all kinds of surprises. The backbone of life, Claire thought. Routines kept things running smoothly. So every morning when she was working the early shift, she opened the street door at 7.15 sharp, called out quick hellos to Mr. Bug - a part-time concierge and her downstairs neighbour who was cleaning the stairway and sidewalk in the early morning hours - and crossed the street to have a half-an-hour walk at Meadows.

But if everything in Claire´s life was so predictable, well-organized and under her own control, why was she so nervous this particular morning? Why didn´t she stop to sit on her favorite bench to talk to Ella and Walter? Why was her heart racing and her mouth feeling dry? - Well, it seemed that sometimes strict routines make the unexpected encounters possible. Life is full of astonishing surprises even for those who are doing their best to avoid them.

* * *

**It´s an interesting process** , really, how urban people start to show recognition for each other - how complete strangers gradually become acquaintances - or maybe even more - friends or lovers. People don´t usually greet strangers on the street but if they bump into the same person again and again, at some point shy smiles of greeting are exchanged.

But when is it  a proper time for a first hello? After you´ve seen someone four times or five? That was Claire feverishly thinking about as she passed her favourite bench and walked towards the tennis courts this cool morning, yet scolding herself for her foolishness.  

_What the hell is wrong with you Beauchamp? Are you really this pathetic - stalking strange man in the nearby park?_

Her thoughts was cut off, however, by the very reason of them - the familiar male figure who was approaching her along the straight path, coming from Edinburgh University. She couldn´t help but smile to herself - he was as punctual as she was. Claire had seen the man five times jogging at Meadows and each time they have met each other halfway between the tennis courts and the University. Yes, the routines. Apparently they both had rather similar schedules for their mornings.

They have passed the smiling phase and Claire still blushed remembering how it had happened.

A week ago she had dawdled here deep in her thoughts. The spring might have given its own special contribution to her mood - she had had a restless night, full of hot steamy dreams - and she had felt unusually uneasy and rather tired at the same time.

She had vaguely noticed that someone was coming towards her. While glancing at that direction, her eyes had suddenly locked onto a perfect pair of male legs in black running tights. She had got stuck staring at how the muscles were working within those ridiculously tight pants, the flex of the powerful thighs that were approaching her.

She hadn´t realised she´d been shamelessly staring at him - or actually everything about the man below his waist - until she had quickly glanced after him and noticed his amused grin while he was giving her a quick look over his shoulder.

_Jesus_ , she had gasped, feeling the sudden flush in her cheeks. _Did a strange man just notice that I was staring at his arse?_

Deeply ashamed and shocked by her own behaviour, she had made a phone call to Joe, but the bloody man had only rejoiced as she had told him about her humiliation.

“You´re flesh and blood after all, lady Jane. Even I didn´t see you as the type who would harass men in the public park”, he had nearly choked on his laughter.

“I wasn´t harrassing anyone! I wasn´t properly awake!”, she had defended herself fiercely “And besides - I don´t even want any man in my life right now!”

“So you say… but you´ve lived alone so long you´d better be aware of yourself or you just might grab his arse next time”, he had chuckled, irritating the hell out of her.

The next morning Claire had wished for the earth to swallow her as she saw the same man jogging towards her. She quickly calculated whether it would look normal to take the dog and run across the lawn in any other direction, but right at that moment Stewie had decided to poop and she had no other alternative but to stand there and face the feelings of humiliation and embarrassment.

Lifting up her chin and gathering the shreds of her dignity, she had met the stranger´s eyes, being careful not to let her look stray below his shoulders. The man had given her the same amused smile she´d seen the day before, making her blush again. And since that second morning they had exchanged smiles.

* * *

**It was somehow disturbing** how much she had been thinking about this strange man ever since, considering that she had been rather immune to all men and their advances after her divorce. Joe was always laughing about _how cool lady Jane was an expert at refusing and turning down eager suitors_. But now, this tall, red-haired Scot - he had even come to her dreams.

God, he was tall and classically handsome, she thought. He looked like an athlete with his strong thighs, wide chest and shoulders, and he was clearly a man, not a boy anymore. Figuring out his age, Claire estimated he could be anything between 30 and 40. But even though his body and looks were magnificent, she was mostly drawn to him because of his eyes. There was warm humour lingering in his gaze that urged her to trust him.

So here she was now, pondering where would a simple hello lead to. Should she greet him or not? Did she have courage for such an outrageous deed? Had she meant what she had told Joe - that she really didn´t want anyone in her life? She was 38, becoming a well-known doctor in her field, but the age or the title didn´t help much, she felt like a nervous teenager.

The man was running closer. They had looked at each other the whole way he was jogging that long straight path. Claire saw his eyes were focused on her and he didn´t even pretend to look anywhere else. Her heart started to beat faster. Approximately 20 meters now, no more than 10…only 5… She could almost feel the vibration of earth beneath his powerful running steps and took a deep breath to be able to force the word out of her mouth.

He made it before her though.  
“Cheers!”, he called out with a wide smile and she had barely time to answer him with a breathless “Hello” as he already passed her, continuing his running without a break.

She quickly looked at him over her shoulder only to notice that he did the same and a delightful giddiness suddenly filled her soul. She smiled stupidly to herself, babbling something incoherent to Stewie who wagged his tail without understanding why his mama was so excited.

* * *

**Four days had passed**. Four long days full of mixed emotions. Claire hadn´t seen her mysterious jogger since the morning they´d exchanged hellos. She had still worked the morning-shift and faithfully walked in the park every morning, but there was absolutely no sight of him and the insecure part of her had started to wonder if he had changed his running route to avoid the crazy stalking dog lady.

_You shouldn´t let some random bloke to mess with your head like this_ , she had tried to berate herself without succeeding. No, every morning she came home from the park disappointed and left for work relieved as during the working hours she could only concentrate on the task at hand and her now broken loose wild imagination could not torment her.

Sighing, Claire drank her last cup of tea for the evening and looked out her kitchen window at the empty street and the calm wash of lights in the house opposite.

She could not help thinking that tomorrow she was going to switch shifts, which meant she would be going to the park much later. If the man followed the same routine as usual, they wouldn´t see each other for at least two weeks.

_It´s all for the best. Time to put an end to this stupid daydreaming. Spring had just had your hormones raging, Beauchamp!_

It was late, she had already changed into her old checkered flannel pajamas pants, gathered her wild hair into a chaotic bun and was just about to drag herself to bed as she noticed that the dog was whining restlessly in front of the door.

“Stewie dear, don´t say you have to go out?”, she bent over to pet the dog who immediately jumped towards the hook where his leash was hanging. “Oh my, it seems we have to go then”, she sighed and quickly wrapped a worn out cardigan around her shoulders. There was hardly anyone else in the park at this hour and she was much too tired to change her clothes.

It was supposed to be a fast turn just across the street, but as Claire and Stewie returned home she noticed, to her horror, that she couldn´t find her keys. The stretched pockets of her cardigan were empty! She checked them four times as if the keys would miraculously appear if she only patted her pockets fiercely enough but empty they were and empty they remained. Recalling with certainty that she had taken the keys with her when they left, she realized that she must have dropped them somewhere in the park.

“Perfect, bloody perfect!”, she huffed aloud and turned around, pulling the baffled dog behind her.

* * *

**She found the place** where they had just walked a few minutes earlier, switched on the little torch on her mobile and shone the ground around her. Stewie got excited as she went on all fours to look at closer, jumping on her and pulling the leash with his teeth.

“Oh stop it, you stupid animal!”, she hissed, struggling to see clearly in the weak beam of light.

She started to crawl, her flannel-clad arse into the air, and probed the ground with her hands and at this worst of all possible moments she suddenly heard a deep male voice behind her.

“Hello there, have ye lost something?”

Claire yelped in surprise, almost dropped her mobile and quickly stumbled to her feet pulling her hair away from her face.  

At first she could only see a vague outline of the tall man by the dim street light,  but then she realised… _Holy fuck! It was…him._

“Hi. Dinna be scared. It´s me. We´ve seen each other in the park. Remember? I´m the runner guy…”, the man tried to calm her down, noticing her frightened expression.

_Holy shit! No-no-no…This could only happen to me_. Claire desperately tried to gather herself, stuffing her tee shirt into her worn pajama pants and taming her exploded bun. “Oh, hello. Yes, I remember you”, she breathed.

“Good”, he smiled with an amused look in his eyes, observing her openly.

He was wearing a faded grey jacket, worn out jeans and a black-and-white-striped scarf, loosely tied around his neck. Very chic, Claire thought, noticing that he also looked a little tipsy. The clothes matched with that - he had probably been out drinking with friends.

“So, have ye dropped something or is this just what ye do in the park in the wee hours wi´ yer wee dog?” he grinned, a spark of flirtation lighting up his eyes.  

“Ha-ha, funny. You´re a regular Bob Hope.. I lost my keys, actually”, she huffed, but it turned into an embarrassed smile as she caught his eyes.

“Oh, that´s too bad… Is this where you´ve been walking?”, he asked, digging the mobile from his pocket.

“Yeah, between the street and those big trees over there.”

“Well, we better start looking for them, then”, he said, already shining his torch on the ground.

“Oh, you don´t have to.. It´s awfully late. I´m sure– ”, she tried, not really knowing whether she´d like him to help her or not.

“Och.. What kind of a man would leave a helpless woman in trouble? And what is more, unprotected in the park at night”, he grinned. “I bet ye are no much of a guard”, he continued, scratching overly friendly Stewie under his chin.

* * *

**So they started to search** \- although Claire wasn´t sure how much she was able to concentrate. She was painfully aware of her shabby attire and even more of his presence. Why tonight, of all nights, had she bumped into him? Oh God, first she was peeking at his arse and now he caught her crawling in the park wearing pants that look like they belong to his grandpa.

_He must think I´m on holiday from some institution. So much for the romance._

“Anything?”, she heard him asking between the trees.

“Nope, nothing”, she sighed, starting to feel desperate - and not only because of the keys.

“Here, take a wee nip. It´ll do ye good”, he walked towards her, handing over a little flask. “Dinna fash, we´ll find yer keys. Were they on the fob?”

At this point she would have emptied an entire bottle of whisky, so she took the flask and eagerly drank from it, letting the warmth fill her mouth. “No, just two keys. No fob… I´m Claire, by the way”, she blurted and stupidly stuck out her hand to greet him.

His eyes glowed fondly at her as he took her hand and held it just a little bit longer than was necessary. “Nice to meet ye Claire. I´m Jamie.”

Then something happened - as if the air thickened between them. She didn´t know what it was, but suddenly the common phrase sounded oddly intimate and she swallowed. They looked at each other for one long held moment.

“So, you run”, she said, just to say something, unable to take her eyes away from him.

“Aye, I do… And ye walk the dog”, his gaze travelled slowly over her face and focused on her lips for a second, his smile fading.

She startled by the sudden intensity in his gaze and gasped. “But you haven’t run in the past few days”, she breathed and almost bit her tongue after the words left her mouth. Fuck, now she sounded like a bloody stalker again. What happened to her famous wit? It seemed she wasn´t able to say anything close to normal in his presence.

He laughed softly and was about to say something as Stewie suddenly started to jump against him and the intimate moment was broken. “Hey ye wee fellow. Are ye bored? We better find the keys so ye and yer mama can get back home”, he babbled at the dog, making it jump even higher.

Claire turned around and walked a few metres away from him, pretending she was looking for the keys. Hundreds of butterflies were dancing in her stomach and her chest felt tight. It´s been so long she had felt anything like this. Jamie. She silently repeated his name, rolled it on her tongue like the name could reveal everything she wanted to know about him.

She almost jumped out of her skin as she heard his loud shout from near the street.

“Ha! Here! Found them!”, he was walking towards her again, dangling her keys between his fingers, a victorious expression on his face. “See! Told ye we’d find them.”

“Really? Wow! Awesome!”, she sighed in relief. “How can I ever thank you enough?”

“Well… ye could let me walk ye home to make sure ye´re safe”, he grinned, a warm glint in his eyes. “Ye really shouldna be in the park alone at night.”

“Oh, you really don´t need to. I live just across the street. Just over there.”

“You do? And I live just across the park. Just over there. Simpson Loan, that is.”

They looked at each other, knowing that they should part now but for some reason neither of them moved. He frowned, his eyes darkening, licked his lips and swallowed, hard.

“Claire..”, he started, hesitating.

“Yes?”, her voice sounded strange to her own ears and her heart started pounding so hard she could hear it.

“Well. I hope ye dinna…Uh… I´d like to see ye again. Verra much so. And not just in the park, I mean. This may sound weird.. And this is no what I usually do and I hope ye dinna find me too pushy or…” he stammered, looking anywhere but her eyes.

First time that evening she could see the uncertainty in his face and perhaps it gave her courage.

“No, I don´t. I´d like that. Do you want my number?”, she asked, surprised by her own boldness and by the fact her voice came out clear and unshaky.

“Really? Aye, I do”, he quickly took up his mobile as if she would change her mind any second.

* * *

**She didn´t get further** than her stairway as her phone peeped.

“I´m glad ye lost yer keys tonight, Claire. Have a good night. Jamie. Ps. Loved yer pants! ”


	2. The Hospital

**Jamie remembered clearly** when he had seen her for the first time. It was six months ago, on one exceptionally cold autumn morning as he was running his usual route at Meadows, earbuds in his ears, listening to some silly old disco tunes that always made him feel energetic and alive. “Gotta have some hot love baby, this evenin’..”  His sister Jenny had made a new list to be played at the Fraser Fitness, the gym he owned, and had absolutely managed to pick the best songs of soul and old disco. 

Trying hard not to sing along out loud - knowing his voice wasn’t quite suited for public performances - he glanced over and saw three women, approximately 20 metres away, with their wee dogs playing on the frosty lawn.

The image of her was burned into his mind so vividly he could still remember the details. She was laughing full laugh and throwing back her head, and even though he could only hear Donna Summer moaning _Hot Stuff_ in his ears, he knew for certain how infectious her giggling would´ve been.

She was backlit by the early morning sun, creating a halo around her long riotous curls that were shining in all possible shades of brown. Breath was steaming out of her mouth, her white teeth were gleaming and she looked like an impersonation of joy - shameless, even impudent joie de vivre - who didn´t owe the world an apology for being alive. For a second he had wanted to join her, just to share that joy and to know what she was laughing about.

Since that morning, Jamie had gradually learned her routines. More than once and even during the winter, he had seen her sitting on the old bench under the cherry trees, talking to her wee dog and looking rather embarrassed as he run past her as if he´d caught her doing something inappropriate. He had seen her throwing a ball to her pooch and jumping with excitement like a five-year-old as the wee animal returned with the toy. He had witnessed her walking there so distressed as though the whole world was on her shoulders and she was just about carrying the weight. Observing her, he had studied her moods, all written so clearly on her face, and become more intrigued each day.

But she never saw him.

She was never paying any attention.

It was as though he had turned invisible.

This had been a whole new experience for Jamie as he was well aware of his usual effect on the opposite sex. Not that he´d taken advantage of it, on the contrary, he hadn´t had any relationship for five years and had decided to keep it that way until someone special enough came along. But he was used to women paying attention to him, as did the ladies at the the gym, who were desperately trying to flirt with him on a daily basis. Not this curly-haired woman in the park though, no, she walked past him as if he didn´t even exist.  

He had played with idea of approaching her, inventing different plots and plans in his head, but when the moment arrived he just chickened every time. All his replies started to sound clichéd in his own ears and for some reason he just knew she would be far too smart for daft and sleazy pick-up lines.

But then had come that blessed morning when the cloak of invisibility had been taken off his shoulders. Why that particular morning? Perhaps the stars aligned; he would never know, but what he did know was that her gaze, focused on his lower body, had shot through his groin like a physical touch, almost giving him a cock-stand right there - even though he had seen well enough she was deep in her thoughts and was not doing it on purpose. The next morning, when the wee creature had stubbornly lifted up her chin to meet his eyes, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment… Well, he´d thought he could fall in love with the woman for that impression only, so defiant yet rather fragile and shy.

And since that day Lady Fortuna had been on his side.

Jamie had no idea how he had ended up that side of the park, walking home from Murtagh´s house warming party that night. It may be that in his drunken state his subconscious mind had taken over and he had started to look for her as he calculated she must be living in the neighborhood. Luckily he hadn´t been too plastered to screw up everything when the impossible happened and he actually saw her, looking for her keys, her nose to the ground and her, well, rather nicely shaped arse up in  the air.

That night he got to know her name and was able to look at her at close distance -Claire… A Dhia. Her lips - they had looked so moist and pink, as if begging to be kissed. He really struggled with himself not to try anything stupid and scare her away. His patience paid off, as well as his bold suggestion to see her again, and after she had given him her number everything had evolved better he could ever have hoped for.

They had actually exchanged several messages during that first night and he´d blushed reading them the next morning. He´d been more flirty and daring than he would ever have been sober, but Claire had dealt his clumsy lines and jokes with grace and dry humour. He had been right - she was very quick-witted. And the best of all, she still wanted to see him and had promised to go out with him the next weekend. 

* * *

**Sitting at the reception desk** of his gym, Jamie thought about the past days and planned where he would take Claire for their first date. He was truly fascinated by this woman, enchanted by her beauty as well as by the intoxicating and rare combination of strength and vulnerability. He wanted the place to be out of the ordinary, like she was exceptional, not just some common restaurant where anyone could take her. No, he wanted it to be special as he wanted her to find him worthy of her.

Music was thundering and a group of women in colorful fitness clothes - that weren´t exactly  designed to hide much - walked past him like a flock of exotic birds, giggling and sending him hopeful glances. Yet, he didn´t seem to see or hear anything, not even his phone until Jenny came from the back room, poked him on the shoulder, frowning her brows and passing him an annoyed gaze.

“Wake up, ye eejit! Ye´ve been so strange the past two days! We´ll be running out of customers if ye dinna start answering that phone!”

“Och?… aye…”, he answered absentmindedly, his tone so mild it made Jenny to scrutinize him more closely.

“Are ye ill, brother?”, she asked, trying to reach his forehead with her hand.

“Nay! Dinna fash yerself. I´m fine”, he impatiently pushed her hand away and finally answered the phone that had rang god knows for how long.

His expression turned serious as he listened to the voice at the other end of the wire. Jenny would have been willing to continue their conversation as he closed the mobile, but he immediately stood up and reached for his jacket.

“I´ve got to go. It was Willy´s teacher. He´s hurt his head and they´ve taken him to the Sick Kids to be stitched. I have to get the lassies from school and go there. Will ye take care of …?” he called out, one leg already out of the door.

“Aye, sure, I´ll be fine here, just go! Call me when ye get there!”, he heard Jenny yelling after him as he was running to catch the elevator.

 _William…again. That boy will put me in an early grave_ , Jamie sighed, speeding his Ford Mondeo towards the secondary school, calling the principal on the way and asking him to have Marsali and Joan ready once he got there. It wasn´t the first time the wee rascal had gotten into trouble and surely not the last one either. As a three-year-old he´d burned himself on the teapot, being four broke his leg jumping into the sandpit near Lallybroch and a year later almost got drowned as he suddenly jumped off the boat for a swim - forgetting that he didn´t have the necessary skills to keep his head above the water.

“Da! What has happened? Is it Willy again? But you´ve promised to take me to Anna´s house after school. We have to practice our dance program!” 14-year-old Marsali whined as she stepped into the car in the school parking lot, clearly irritated at this unexpected disturbance.

“Aye, ´tis William, he´s hurt his head but I dinna ken much, just that they´ve taken him to the Sick Kids A&E”, Jamie said, ignoring the displeasure of the teenager.

“Da, hope ye recall my riding lesson is tonight”, 12-year-old Joan announced as soon as she jumped into the back seat and slammed the car door shut.

 _Another discontent teen, then…Sounds like a pleasant evening_ , he snorted inwardly… “I do recall all yer dances and wee ponies but we have to see Willy first, how badly he´s hurt himself this time, aye?”, he muttered as he started their car and headed towards the hospital.    

* * *

**Looking for your child** in the accident and emergency department is always rather shocking - even if you know there´s no real life danger. When Jamie and the girls arrived at the main entrance to the hospital, an ambulance with flashing blue lights drove into the yard. It suddenly gave him chills and made him say a silent prayer for that unknown patient. How fragile life is, he thought, directing the girls towards the waiting room and leaving them there with quick assurances that he´d be back soon. Then he half ran behind the friendly nurse, who was guiding him towards the consulting room.

“Mr. Fraser, you don´t have to be too worried”, she comforted him before he even had time to ask anything. “The doctor will be with you any minute and she´ll tell you exactly what happened to the little fellow and give you the regimen as well. William, your father is here”, she said, opening the door.

“Da! Look what I´ve got!”, the red-haired boy yelled excitedly, waving his hands. “Here´s Spiderman on a motorbike! And here´s his web! And flames!”

“Now, stay still and lie down, as you were told, young man. He just got some temporary tattoos on his arm because he was such a brave patient”, the nurse explained, gently pushing William on his back into the hospital bed.

“Look at that lad, bonny tattoos ye´ve got, but it looks like ye´ve got something else as well”, Jamie glanced at the bandage on his forehead, feeling relieved his son appeared to be very much alive. “What happened at school today? Why are you here?”, he asked, gently tousling the curly hair that looked so much like his own.

“Well, da… he didna mean it, really. And it was my fault as I punched him in the tummy first”, William started, suddenly remembering the original reason for this visit.

“Hey hey, hold on. Who didna mean and what? And who did ye punch? Ye ken well enough what I´ve said about punching, aye?”

“Aye, I do da, but Jerry said that I–”,

Their talk was interrupted by the clear and friendly female voice from the door. “Well, little William Fraser, everything seems to be alright here. I was told your dad has arrived–”

Jamie turned around just to see the plethora of emotions flitting across her face. Warm smile was replaced by confusion, then anger or disappointment, until she quickly arranged her face into a professional mask. She was smiling again, but the stiffness didn´t leave her face and the smile didn´t quite reach her eyes.

The doctor, she was Claire.

“H-hello…Claire. Doctor”, Jamie stammered a little, totally overwhelmed by her sudden appearance.

“Mr. Fraser. I´m Dr. Beauchamp and I´ve treated your son as his teacher brought him here for his head injury”, she came forward and very formally gave him her hand.

 _I´m Claire, by the way_ , he heard another voice in his ears, as he took her hand to greet her. _Holy Mary, this just happened, except she was in her pajamas, her hair a dark untamed storm_.  

Now her hair was pulled back into the tight bun. Dr. Beauchamp. Not that he had anything against this strict professional look either, but his brains just refused to process this all. For a moment Jamie wondered if it was him who had hit his head instead of William.

Fortunately, Claire didn´t work in the emergency department for nothing. No matter how nervous she was in her personal life, she was a hard-boiled professional, and as a doctor, fully able to control herself.

“William”, she turned to talk to the boy, her smile genuinely warm this time. “Perhaps we should tell your father what happened to you today.” Then she turned to face Jamie again and the smile disappeared. “We had to put ten stitches on his forehead. Apparently another boy pulled him down from the jungle gym, but that´s something the school has to deal with, it´s not our business. We have treated William for his wound and as he hit his head on the ground, there´s always a risk of concussion as well.”

Jamie frowned and tried to force himself to concentrate on her words - and tear his gaze away from her lips that still looked very kissable even though her voice sounded strangely cold.

“I´ve examined him and he didn´t have any problems in our neurological tests so there´s no reason to be too concerned. I´ll give you the list of symptoms, anyway. You should observe the boy for the possible changes in his behaviour. The common symptoms are nausea, tiredness and headache”, Claire continued as she would have talked to any father, not to Jamie. Not to a man, she was about go out with in a few days time.

Jamie wasn´t so worried about William any longer. The wound was stitched and most likely the lad had as thick of a skull as his father - Jenny used to call his head an iron pot; as many times he had hit his head as a wean and without any serious consequences.

Instead Jamie started to worry for himself. Claire was so politely distant as if they´d never have met before. At first he had been so baffled himself that he thought it was just her professional role but now he was certain it wasn´t. He couldn´t ask her while William was there, so he desperately tried to catch her eyes - without succeeding. It was as if she had erected a wall around her, transparent but still very much existent and hard as stone.

Then it suddenly hit him - of course - if there´s a son and a father, well, usually a mother is involved as well. _Dear Lord, she must think I´m some deceptive bastard who has a wife at home waiting. Fuck!_

“Could I call ye later?… I mean if I need to ask something… or if some symptoms appear…”, he said at the door, his eyes silently trying to convince her that he´d have explanation for everything.

The double meaning of his question was rather obvious and it seemed that Claire was considering it as she escorted them out down the corridor. Then they heard two girls yelling in unison for da and saw Marsali and Joan running towards them. With an unreadable expression on her face, Claire looked at the girls as they were hugging little William and demanding for money from their father for the candy machine, and it appeared that this scene suddenly tipped the scale to other direction.

“I´m sure William will do just fine, but if some acute symptoms appear you better call our emergency hotline, they are capable of assessing the situation. Bye then, William, get well soon. Mr. Fraser. Girls”, she said, turned around and determinedly started walking the corridor in the other direction.  

Jamie could still hear the echo of her footstep far down the corridor as he grabbed William in his arms to carry him to the car. He cursed inwardly, long and hard. He loved the kids something fierce but right now he would have given anything if none of them were near this hospital.  This time two-faced Lady Fortuna had decided to play against him.

* * *

**Jamie made his first phone call** to Claire before they even left the parking lot, telling a white lie to the kids that he had some business phone calls to make. No answer. Well, she may not have her personal phone with her during the working day, he tried to reassure himself, and sent her a text instead. As it later turned out, it was just the first of many.

> _“Claire. You didn´t say you were a doctor :) Hell of surprise to see you. I´d like to talk to you. Please call. Jamie.”_

Couple of hours passed. Murtagh came to help and took the girls to their activities while Jamie stayed at home with William who had a mild headache after the accident. He was more than happy when William settled to watch the children´s channel as he found it hard to concentrate on anything. Checking his phone every other minute just in case he might have just missed the peep, Jamie tried to make some supper for them. Something simple tonight, he decided, taking the bolognese sauce out of the freezer and throwing some pasta into the boiling water. He sent silent thanks to Suzette, Murtagh´s lady friend, who was always cooking them meal-sized portions to be freezed. Then he just couldn´t take it any longer.

> _“Hi. I´m not sure how long you´re working, but please let me know when you´re finished. J.”_

Another hour. Murtagh called just to inform him that he´ll be back with the girls around eight and Jamie could not quite hide his disappointment when he heard his deep brogue on the phone instead of Claire´s sophisticated British accent. After that he managed to anger Jenny, who would have wanted to talk with Willy and he just couldn´t keep the phone line busy for that long. Another message.

> _“I´m sorry if this feels like I´m harassing you. I don´t mean it that way. I just began to worry that there may be a misunderstanding between us. I´d like to set things straight. Jamie”_

At eight Marsali and Joan arrived home with Murtagh, bubbling over with excitement and telling stories of horses, boys, dance clothes and all the other things that were most important in the world of teenage girls. Murtagh gave Jamie a curious look, noticing his godson´s mind was clearly occupied elsewhere, no matter how hard he tried to listen to Marsali and Joan. After William had finally gone to sleep and the girls closed themselves in their rooms, two men sat in the living room, a glass of amber whisky in their hands.

Sensing that Jamie still was rather tense, the old man tried to comfort him. “The wee lad will be fine, ye see. Ye were exactly the same at his age. Always running headlong into trouble.”

“Aye, sure he will. He´s having a wee headache now and that´s probably it. But it isna that. Will ye excuse me”, Jamie emptied his glass and suddenly left the room just to check his phone in the hall. Another message.

> _“Claire. You must be at home by now. It´d be easier to talk but if you don´t want to, I just wanna say I´m divorced and not involved wi anyone, if that´s what you were thinking. I´d still like to take you out next weekend._
> 
> And another one, only a few seconds later.  
>    
>  _“And yes, I´ve got three kids living with me and it´s quite a lot of baggage, I know. Hope it´s not too much for you. If it is, I understand, but prefer you to say it. My life has been very complicated but I love them all, no regrets.”_

Jamie was just about to return the living room as his mobile finally peeped. He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard until he was able to read it. _Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of mercy_. An old catholic prayer came to his mind as he sighed and forced himself to look what she had written.

> _“Okay, I´m listening.”_

_Oh, Blessed art thou amongst women!_ “Yes!”, he shouted out aloud, his whole body flooding with such a sense of relief his knees bent under his weight. She was willing to listen. At least he´d have his chance to explain. “Murtagh!”, he yelled then, grabbing his jacket from the hook. “Could ye stay here wi´ the bairns, I need to go out. ´Tis an emergency.”

“Aye? What happened? No Jenny, I hope?”, his godfather peeked into the hall, but his troubled expression changed as he saw how Jamie was fizzling with restless energy. “Hmpr…”, Murtagh grunted and gave him a quizzical look. “Emergency, eh?”

“Aye. A matter of life and death, really”, Jamie grinned, lacing up his sneakers.

“Och… May I ask how long this emergency will take, then. Must I sleep on yer knotty couch again?”

“Nay, I dinna think so. But Murtagh, I think I´ve finally met her.”

“Met who? What are ye babbling about, laddie?”

“The lass my da always talked about. The right one, ken? Now I only need to convince her about it.”


	3. The Kitchen

**The fierce wind was driving rain** horizontally as Jamie ran across the park towards the place where he´d seen Claire the last time. Trees swayed and bent to almost impossible angles in the storm, but he could not care less. Neither had his steps ever felt lighter. Only after Claire´s message, had he realised how scared he´d been. Frightened by the thought that he would lose her before truly having her in the first place.

Approaching her house, Jamie realised he had no plan whatsoever on what to say to her. Her simple message had just launched him into action. He had rushed out of his house, driven by an urgent need for her - to see her, to talk to her, to make her understand. But to understand what? His whole life perhaps, his choices, his mistakes, who he was - everything you wouldn´t necessarily want to share on the first date if only you had a choice. Now he stood under those big trees where they´d looked for her keys two days earlier, a little breathless, thinking what an earth should he actually do. Gathering himself a little, he called her.

Seeing it was him, Claire let the phone ring for a while. Bollocks, it won´t get any easier, she finally huffed and answered. She heard immediately he wasn´t at home, sounds of wind and rain made it almost impossible for her to hear him.

“Claire. I´m so glad ye answered”, he was panting into the phone. “I got yer text —— and I decided —– I should —– meet —– to talk ——”

“Jamie, where the hell are you? I can´t hear half you´re saying.”

“Well, — yer window. Even —– what´s yer window.”

Claire rushed to her bedroom window, but it was too gloomy outside to see much. Then she managed to spot the dark, tall figure under the huge oak trees. Holy fuck, he actually was there.

“Are you insane? It´s a bloody storm out there!” she snapped to the phone. “You must be soaked.”

“Aye, but —– matter —- explain ye —– why —-”

“Jesus. You must be out of your mind”, she sighed. “Wait a minute. I´ll come to the door.”

“I cannot leave the man to freeze to death, can I?” Claire mumbled half aloud as she rapidly glanced at herself in the mirror on her way out as if the reflection would give her the answer.

She was wearing grey sweat pants, a striped tee shirt and pink woolen stockings, and her hair - well, she had opened the tight bun as soon as she got home, so it was a curly mess, as usual. This has to do, she thought, reminding herself that she wasn´t really trying to impress anyone - this afternoon, she hadn´t even know whether she would ever want to see him again.

But Jamie had been right and that is why she had finally answered him. After seeing William and his father together, looking so surprisingly alike, she had instinctively thought that the sweet little family included a mother as well - Jamie being just another lying bastard, who would cheat on his wife whenever there was a chance. She had thought that he would be…yes, just like Frank had been.

She hadn´t known that her wounds were still this raw, after all these years, but on the other hand how could she as she hadn´t really dated anyone after her divorce. Not exposed her heart to any man, to love or even to allow the slightest possibility of getting hurt. Realising she had misjudged Jamie, she felt she owed him an opportunity to talk, at least.

* * *

**Jamie looked like a big wet dog** and he even shuddered like one, shaking the droplets off him as Claire opened the street door and let him in. He looked at himself and let out an embarrassed laugh. “Hi. ´Tis rather wet outside…”

“So I see… How´s William? You didn´t leave the kids alone, did you?”

He gave her a surprised look, a frown creasing his brows. “He´s fine, a wee headache, that´s all, and no, I didna. Murtagh, I mean my godfather is there. Why d´ye ask?”

“Well, you seem so… coming here in the storm, soaked to the bone. Rather… uh… impulsive, don´t you think?”, she started to hesitate a little under his firm gaze.

“Aye, I was impulsive, but not so much I wouldn´t take care of me bairns”, she could hear the slightly defensive tone of his voice.

“No, of course not. Sorry. Didn´t mean to say you were.”

They looked at each other in the dimness of the stairway, both expecting the other to say something.  

“No pajamas…”, he finally broke the silence, observing her gently.

“No, thought I should put something more festive on”, she answered dryly, making him chuckle. “I think we should go in before Mrs. Bug hears us and comes to interrogate you”, she whispered, suddenly remembering where they were.

“Mrs. Bug? Yer wee dog?”

“No, the dog is a he and called Stewie. Mrs Bug is the wife of our concierge. She likes to keep herself updated on everyone who lives here.”

* * *

**The apartment looked like her** , Jamie thought as they entered her flat on the second floor. Lots of framed black-and-white photographs and a funny dog bed, made of an old suitcase, he quickly noticed as she showed him through the hall into the living room, leaving him there. It felt like someone´s home.

“I´ll make us some tea, okay?”, he heard she was up to something in the next room, opening and closing cabinets.

“Aye, tea is fine. Thank ye!”, he called out, standing in the middle of the living room and looking around. He was afraid to sit down as droplets of water were still dripping from his jeans and his socks were leaving wet splotches on the wooden floor. Stewie sniffed his wet toes with interest, short tail wagging with approval.

A big shelf was full of books many of which seemed to be related to medicine, quite expectedly, but there was also lots of poetry and art books, he noticed, glancing at the covers. She had pieces of graphics on the wall; one was showing a naked couple, entangled with each other on the swing. Jamie was just thinking how beautiful it was, but going closer, he realised that the man´s head reminded more of a rhino than a human.

“So, ye like modern art, then?”, he asked, partly just to ask something, partly out of genuine curiosity. He was interested in everything about her -wanted to know every bit of information that she was willing to share.

“All kinds of art, really”, her voice was suddenly very near, making him startle a little. “It´s a good counterbalance. To my work, I mean”, she said, standing just behind him, a pile of fabrics in her hands. “Here. I couldn´t find any clothes in your size, but perhaps you can wrap yourself with the blanket.”

Jamie took the towels and the blanket from her, frowning and fluttering his lashes. He looked so befuddled, Claire let out a soft laugh. “Well, you cannot wear those, can you? You may catch cold. Besides, you would be ruining my furniture. Take them off and I´ll spread them out to dry”, she urged, secretly enjoying of his embarrassment.

“Aye.. uh… just here or?…” It looked like he was almost blushing.

“You can use the bathroom. It´s down the hall”, she smiled, biting her bottom lip, trying not to laugh out loud.

When Jamie returned, her amusement disappeared. Standing in her kitchen, a white towel wrapped around his hips and the old, grey blanket loosely around his shoulders, it was as if he filled the whole room. She glanced at him quickly and could not help noticing his wide, bare chest, covered in swirls of dark auburn hair. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to take up the cups and some honey to go with the herbal tea.

_How bloody perfect Beauchamp. Now you´re supposed to casually have tea with a naked man._

Jamie sat down at the head of table, and it was as if he read her thoughts. “Well, this wasna really what I had in mind when thought about our first date. That I would be sitting in yer kitchen, naked as a bairn.”

Claire put the cups and some crackers on the table and their eyes met, a little shy at first, but both recognizing the obvious absurdity of the situation. A smile played at the corner of his mouth and she began to feel a crazed giggle rise in her chest. Then she was laughing.

“I´m sorry”, she tried to smother that nearly hysterical giggle, not succeeding.

“´Tis alright. Glad to make ye happy. I actually planned to take ye some place special… But  it was nice ye agreed to meet me anyway”, he smirked, realising her laughter was as contagious as he had thought it would be.

“Well, you didn´t leave me much choice, did you? You bloody, stubborn Scot”, she scolded, but somehow her words managed to sound more like endearment than insult.

* * *

**Jamie couldn´t remember** the last time he had enjoyed a woman´s company this much. It didn´t take long until they started to talk like old friends. Claire was very easy to talk to, her voice was funny and witty and her stories sparkle. Fascinated, he listened to her stories of her childhood and of how she had travelled all over the world with her late uncle.

Looking at her animated face, he couldn´t recall if he had ever felt such a strong physical attraction for a lass either. He was very aware of her presence in that cosy kitchen, her every move - the way she lifted the cup to her lips, how she wiped her curls away from her face or wrinkled her nose when she laughed.

And, a dhia, the slight swing of her high breasts beneath her tee shirt when she stood up to bring him a glass of whisky after they had that weird herbal drink, she called tea.

He only hoped he hadn´t grunted out aloud as she walked into the kitchen, a bottle of whisky in her hands - when he noticed that swing and the fact she wasn´t wearing a bra. He had to tear his gaze away from her chest not to make a complete fool of himself.

Was it just wishful thinking on his part to think she wasn´t totally immune to him, either? He had sensed her gaze traveling down the length of his body when she thought he wasn´t looking and saw an unfocused expression passing across her face as they were talking.

The fact she was so smart and talented, just made her more desirable to him. All of a sudden, he recalled how she looked at the hospital, in her scrubs and her hair pulled back into a bun, and a very primitive urge to possess her surged through him. He wanted to be the one who would let her hair out of that bun, wild and loose. He wanted to see her shatter under him, to lose complete control of herself and to cry out his name and his name only.

The image was so vivid, Jamie had to empty his glass to get a grip on himself. Claire had just asked him something, but he had no idea what it was so he smiled at her somewhat stupidly.

“What? I´m sorry”, he asked and met her amused gaze that nearly made him blush. _Christ, I hope she didna guess what I was thinking_.  

“Well, I was just asking about your kids…”, she said, looking at him curiously.

“What d´ye want to know? I will honestly tell ye everything”

“Honestly?”, she repeated, as she wouldn´t quite know the meaning of the word.

“Aye, of course.” They hadn´t touched each other before, but now Jamie just had to reach her hand that was cupped around her mug, attempting to put more weight into his words. ”Ye do believe me, don´t ye?”

Her hand stirred a little but she didn´t move it away as he gently rubbed her palm with his thumb. “It´s not that”, she smiled, half-sadly. “I may not be used to it, that´s all. Honesty. See, I´ve been married before as well. And there wasn´t much honesty there”, she gazed at him under her lashes, looking so vulnerable that he immediately wanted to pull her into his arms.

Without that bloody table between them, he might have actually done so. A part of him was surprised of how strongly he wanted to comfort her and protect her at the moment. And kill the bastard who had hurt her so. He settled for taking a firmer grip of her hand, however. “I´m no perfect and god knows I´ve made many mistakes, but that is one thing I can promise ye”, he assured with sincerity that made her smile.

The shadows of sadness seemed to disappear from her face. “Well, tell me about your kids then”, she urged. “You said you were divorced. William looks so much like you. Girls, perhaps they look more like their mother?”

“Och… The lassies are no actually mine. Biologically, that is. But they never had another father in their life, only me, so…”, he explained, fiddling with his glass as he was desperately searching for words.. “I told ye, ´tis complicated…”, he sighed, looking so insecure that it filled Claire with a sudden tenderness and she touched his hand for support in turn.

“Take you time. You don´t have to tell me more than you want to.”

* * *

**Their hands remained close** to each other on the table, occasionally touching. He slowly drummed his fingers, mostly looking at her hands while he talked and lifting up his eyes to meet hers just to ensure she was still there and listening. Claire didn´t say much at first, just a few comments here and there.

“The girls were lucky to have you”, she simply said as Jamie told her about his divorce from their mother.

“Aye, at least I´ve tried my best to be a father to them”, he nodded.

“And you had to compensate the lack of a mother as well. They had no one but you”, she remarked.

Jamie didn´t know why he felt the need to defend Laoghaire to Claire, but he did so nevertheless. “She had quite a rough life, becoming a mom as a teenager and having all kinds of abusers around. I ken it now it was daft to marry her out of pity when she came to Edinburgh, but she was only 18 wi´ two bairns and coming from the same town as I came from. I was 24. Neither of us kent so much about life. Or about relationships. I think I was trying to save her or something.”

“But she didn´t want to be saved?”, she dared to ask.

“No, I guess no. She wanted to have more of life, see and do things, I suppose. We didn´t divorce right away when she left for London. I stayed here wi´ the lassies as Marsali had just begun school and Joan was only four. And I had started my business. But then she never came back and I have to admit I was rather relieved. After almost two years I decided to file for a divorce. She agreed and said it would be better for the bairns to live here wi´ me. I love them like they were my own, ken?”

“I understand. Do they… I mean, do they have any contact with their mother?”, Claire tried to keep her face neutral despite of her disgust for that woman. After trying to conceive for two years in vain, Claire found it hard to understand a mother who would abandon two little girls like that, no matter how young, broken and ignorant she may have been.

“No much. She calls, but no often, and sees them maybe once or twice a year. Laoghaire had two bairns after them. A girl wi´ a musician, who was a crack addict. She was also using some shit at the time so the bairn was taken into custody. Then she had a boy wi´ the man she´s living wi´ now.”      

Claire felt an anger rising in her chest. Why was having a child so easy for those who didn´t seem to care a damn? “Another glass?”, she suddenly asked, reminding herself that she should let him talk and not to let her own emotions burst out. “I think I´ll have one as well  - after all.”

“That bad, is it? Ye canna listen to me sober?”, Jamie smiled, his eyes half sad, half mischievous. “And ye havena even heard of William yet…”

“Well, you must be his biological father, no doubt about that”, she settled for saying. “He looks like a mini version of you, quite stubborn as well…”

“Aye, wee Willy… I wasna married to his mother, ken. Never even having a proper relationship wi´ her”, he muttered, his gaze going to the dark scene outside the window, then dropping to the glass he was twirling in his hands. “It was a one night stand, really”, he breathed and gave her a quick, embarrassed look. “I found out about the child when she was seven months pregnant and suddenly called me. I told her that I would acknowledge the child and take care of my responsibilities as a father, of course.”

“Of course”, Claire repeated. It had already dawned on her, that Jamie had a rather old-fashioned sense of honor. He seemed to take his loyalties and responsibilities seriously, which Claire found an admirable trait, especially as it was rather rare in these days.

“She died”, Jamie blurted then, quite unexpectedly. “In a car crash when William was one. He had live wi´ me since.” 

* * *

**Claire didn´t sleep much that night**. Outside, the storm  quieted down but it continued to rage in her head and in her heart. She was rolling around her bed, trying to count sheep and make her body relax, but a thousand thoughts and images rushed through her head, making it impossible. She was haunted by two faceless female ghosts, one dead and the other one alive - Geneva and Laoghaire. Two mothers who had left their children behind for very different reasons. Two rather tragic paths of life; that were now intertwining with hers.

Jamie had been right. It was quite a baggage, those three children, but not only because they existed. Rather they were a living reminder of everything that had happened before Claire entered his life. She wasn´t really jealous of these women - how could she as she had a past of her own - but the thought of them made her uncertain for some reason. Why? She could not tell. It was just a vague, unpleasant feeling, she wasn´t able to verbalize.

But then there was Jamie.

Lying in the darkness, she recalled how the corner of his mouth curled up to a smile, the strength of his arm lying on her kitchen table, how his damp hair curled up at the nape of his neck - and how he tasted as he kissed her goodnight at her apartment door.

She outlined her bottom lip, as if she could still feel his lips against hers. She had tasted the smoky aroma of whisky in his kiss. It had been sweet, exploring, so tender and chaste. Yet right under the surface, there had been a promise of something much more powerful only waiting to be released.

They have only seen each other a couple of times, but there flowed a deep undercurrent of real affection between them, that she could not deny - not after spending this night with him - and she knew that if she was to take this step, it was going to be serious. Not the least because of those three kids involved.

He had asked her straight out what she thought about his kids - whether it was too much for her or not. Never before had she really considered this question, dating a single-dad, so her answer was kind of a surprise to herself as well.

“Well, I´m an emergency physician in the children´s hospital. It wouldn´t look good if I found the kids as an obstacle, would it?”, she heard herself saying and once it was said, she realised it was actually true. She had always loved children and at some point of her life she had been devastated by the idea of never having kids of her own. Even though she had already given up hope of having a child - who knows - maybe it was meant to be that she would have a family this way after all.    

He had laughed softly at her ironic answer, looking rather relieved. “Okay, so we are still having a date then, on Friday night? Just the two of us, no kids”, he ensured, his eyes twinkling warmly.

She had only nodded and they stared at each other for a moment in the hall. The movement of his hand had been tentative, almost slow motion, as he reached out for her hair, caressing her curls as if he was analysing them between his fingers. Then he tucked his hand behind her neck, making sure he held the eye contact the whole way - silently asking for her permission to come closer. And closer. Until their lips gingerly touched each other.

“Good night, mo nighean donn, see ye on Friday…”


	4. The Movies

**“This is torture…** I dinna ken why I agreed to do this”, Jamie growled in the darkness of a movie theater. Lights had  just gone out and the trailers for new movies began on the big screen. The theatre was almost empty as it was a beautiful summer night and half the city was out somewhere, enjoying the exceptionally hot weather. 

“Hush now, have some popcorn”, she smiled, handing him a tub of snacks. “This is supposed to be a good film. Joe said so, he has seen it. A group of people have only 45 days to find a partner or they will be transformed into an animal.”

“Aye…And I will turn into a lobster as well before this is over, ye´ll see. We havena seen each other for over a week and ye´re telling me to eat bloody popcorn. I didna ken you could be this cruel, Claire”, he murmured into her ear, gently nibbling her lobe.

“We´ll have the whole weekend together, darling. I´m sure you´ll manage a few hours”, she chuckled, rather delighted of his eagerness. “Besides, they say that abstinence makes heart grow firmer, don´t they?”

“Softer! Abstinence makes heart grow softer. I can assure ye if something grows firmer right now, Claire, it isna my heart”, he breathed into her ear, grasping her hand and pressing it straight into the place where this firmness could be identified.

“Oh, you rude boy”, she laughed softly, pulling her hand away. “Here, have some soda…”, she pushed a can of coke into his hand. “Obviously you need something to keep your hands occupied…”  

This was actually going to be their first weekend together, two whole days and three long nights without any interruptions - no sudden phone calls from Jamie´s kids or unexpected overtime work - just the two of them. 

Their two-month-long relationship had been mostly made of stolen moments here and there - a few nights out having a dinner together, well-coordinated morning walks in the park and hasty afternoon meetings when Jamie´s children participated in their own activities. 

Countless of times, they had sat on her favorite bench under the cherry trees, kissing like lust crazed teenagers - and totally ignoring the amused gazes from bypassers or the whistles of the football players nearby. Shehad introduced him to Ella and Walter and he was sure their last name was a good sign, obviously, because people tend to believe in all kinds of signs in the Highlands, even though he didn´t know the late Fraser couple personally. 

More than once, he had sneaked out in the evenings as well, saying he had to run some errands. Then he had quickly ran across the park to spend an hour with her. After all those brief moments, they both waited for this weekend with baited breath.

* * *

**“Ye look so beautiful tonight** , Claire. Did I already tell ye that?”, he whispered after a few minutes. “I really like that dress”, he added, stroking the hem of her navy blue pleated skirt.

“You did, actually, but I don´t mind hearing it again”, she quickly kissed him on the cheek and huddled against him. “Now, concentrate. The film is beginning.”

“Och…I dinna believe they are going to show anything half as intriguing as ye are, mo ghraidh…” 

In the beginning of their relationship Jamie´s constant compliments had made Claire uneasy, but gradually she got used to them. It seemed to be the most natural thing in the world for him to express his feelings and his imagination and creativity in that department were limitless. 

Just a couple a weeks ago her mobile had peeped in the middle of night and she had awoken to read the first love poem ever written for her. Sobbing, she had read his tender words, thinking that he was just too good to be true. After living in a marriage where all public displays of affections were more or less forbidden, his openness was intoxicating; it was like entering a whole new world with more oxygen in the air. 

Yet, she wasn´t very good at it - using words to express her feelings. She would have wanted to proclaim her love for him, but somehow the words felt so clumsy in her mouth and she was too timid to use them. Luckily there were other ways as well, because she did have feelings to him. Fierce, consuming feelings that wiped away all the rationality. 

Rather soon after their first real date, Claire had admitted to herself that she was head over heels in love with him. He had set her afire. When they were apart, the longing burned inside her and when they met and he touched her she just burst into flames. After nine long years of solitude, it was like someone had dropped the burning matchstick onto the dry forest ground. It then exploded into an uncontrollable wildfire. Wild fire. That´s what it was between them. 

She felt the warmth tickling inside her even now. And it was increasing as his fingers reached the soft skin just above her knee. She quickly glanced at him side eye, noticing the perfectly innocent look on his face as he was watching the movie as if he would have run those gentle circles on her inner thigh just without thinking. Then he slipped his hand a bit higher under her skirt.  

“Oh you clever bastard”, she hissed, eliciting a smug smile from him. There was nothing innocent about his actions. “Now you´re teasing me!”

“Me? Teasing ye? Nay, never. ´Tis ye who are a damn tease, Claire Beauchamp”, he turned to whisper into her ear. “From the moment I saw ye walking down the street towards the theatre, this ridiculously light skirt swinging around your hips and yer nipples poking through that t-shirt, I have thought of nothing much but how easy it´d be to lift yer skirt up and have ye against the wall somewhere”, he said, pressing his lips into the curve on her neck and setting her skin atingle.

“Jesus…”, her whole body shivered. “Aren´t we a bit too old to make out in the movie theatre?”, she tried, looking hastily around to see if there were people near to see them, but the nearby rows were all empty.

“I´m not…this is what ye get, choosing a younger man. You´d better get used to it”, he chuckled against her neck. “Dinna fash, no one will see. I just need to touch ye, love…Don´t ye know how much I´ve missed the way ye feel? I barely got any work done today, thinking that tonight I´d be finally able to touch ye again”, he kept on whispering, his voice husky and hand squeezing her bare thigh.

She desperately tried to find something to say, but her mind refused to cooperate. This was what he did to her - played her body and mind like goddamn Miles Davis played his trumpet, just the way he wanted; improvising; following his own rules, she vaguely thought.

“Are ye wearing knickers?”, he suddenly asked, bringing her out of her dreamy little haze. 

“What?!”, she gasped, almost forgetting where they were. “Of course, I am wearing bloody knickers.”    

“Take them off.” 

Her heart skipped a beat. Her belly clenched. Her nipples tightened. A chain reaction of wanting suddenly poured through her body.

She couldn´t believe what she just heard and glanced at him, partly expecting to see a devilish grin to show he was only joking, but his eyes were serious, darkened with lust. So dark they almost weren´t blue anymore. Like they were all pupils. - She gulped.

“Take them off”, he repeated, the purring velvet in his voice, and ran his finger over her lips until her mouth opened for him, then playing with the tip of her tongue

“Jamie…”, she breathed, helpless. It was gloomy, but she was sure her face was flushed - partly of shame, partly of arousal. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, feeling how her heart thudded, pounded at her ribs.

“Shhh, mo ghraidh, ´tis all right. I´m right here. Just let me touch ye”, he whispered into her ear, his voice full of gentle persuasion.  

It was as if he was a wizard, a bird-tamer and a snake charmer all in one and she was an enchanted wild creature, losing her survival instinct, totally at his mercy. He was peeling her open, layer by layer. 

Still keeping her eyes shut, she slowly reached under her skirt and squirmed out of her panties. Overwhelmed by the mixed emotions, she stuffed the underwear into her purse and quickly snapped it closed as if it would now contain something extremely dangerous.

“I can´t believe you actually got me to do this”, she panted faintly. “See, I´m a respectable doctor, during the daytime.” It was a poor attempt at a joke, she knew it herself. She could hardly hear the sounds of the movie anymore. He had her whole world shrunk into one pair of hands, one set of lips and his low voice in the darkness.

“Aye, ye are, moreover a verra good doctor, but ye´re also a woman. My woman…Mine, Claire. I love ye, you ken that, don´t ye?”, he asked, his fingers drawing some patterns on her thigh. 

“A-ha…” Her reply was no more than a sigh. 

“Now… spread yer legs a bit wider, lass” he breathed hotly into her ear, licking along the shell. “Aye… that´s it.” Then he only inhaled, loudly, as if he was filling his chest. “Mmmm…Christ, Claire - I can smell ye… Yer scent is driving me mad… I dream about it every night, ken… The way ye smell… and how ye taste… and quiver against me mouth…”

He had her moaning without even touching her. 

“God…”, she turned to bury her head into his chest. “You´ve got to stop… I can´t take it… I can´t…I can´t stay silent…Someone will hear…”

“Shhh.. No-no… The main couple is hunting some rabbits now, dinna worry…” he murmured, somewhat incoherently. 

In the back of her mind, she thought how was he able to know what was happening in the film and what was the bloody correlation between the rabbit hunt and her ability to keep silent, but she was never able to finish the sentiment as right then his fingers reached inside her, forcing her to stuff his shirt between her teeths.  “…oh…dear…Lord…”

Her hips instinctively rose to meet his touch. The thrusts of his fingers. His fingers entering her. Probing her. Claiming. Exploring. She couldn´t help but to answer his rhythm and she heard his low chuckle in her ears. “Aye, Claire… just like it…mmm…I love ye babe…” 

With all the willpower she had left, she tried to concentrate in breathing. Just breathing. Slowly, slowly. In and out. Not to let any sound come out. Not to moan. Not to cry out his name. Just breathing. Inhaling. Feeling.

He was breathing rather heavily as well. Then he lifted her leg over his knee, spreading her wider. He whispered something - the words could have been French or Gaelic; she was far beyond understanding - and pushed her skirt a bit higher as his fingers started their circling dance over her hot flesh. Her head lolled back to her seat. She felt dirty, exposed, but still willing to follow him wherever he was taking her. 

That was what he was doing to her. 

* * *

 

**“Please tell me, oh mighty lover** , what do I say to Joe, when he asks what I thought about the film?”

The warm night air was wafting around them as they were walking home, his hand resting on her hips, occasionally caressing her hipbone. The night was perfect - it had rained while they were in the movies and the air smelled fresh and invigorating, yet the warmth made it almost tropical or at least as close to tropical as was possible in Scotland.  

This was actually the first complete sentence she was able to say after they had left the movie theatre. 

It had taken a long time for her to come back to herself. At the moment of her climax, she had swallowed all the sounds and for some reason it had made her inner explosion even more intense, launching her through a velvety black hole to some unknown universe. After that she had only rested against his chest, breathing him in with her eyes closed, listening to the reassuring sound of his heart and having absolutely no idea whether the film characters had turned into animals or not. 

She had partly expected that they would have gotten some weird looks, but no one noticed them as the doors were opened and people left the theatre. It seemed that the rest of the world was going on as usual, the earthquake had only hit her own little reality. He had smiled at her, whispering encouraging words, and she smiled back at him, carrying their sweet dirty secret as an intimate sensation in her body as they walked. The warm breeze was caressing her bare skin and she felt daring and very much alive. 

“A mighty lover?”, he laughed in surprise. “Well, I can live with the title, I suppose. Are ye sure ye want to concede it already? Perhaps ye should wait for the Sunday night”, he turned to kiss her, pressing her against the nearby wall. His hand wandered down her back until it clutched her arse. “´Tis a honorable title, after all. Ye´re putting pressure on me. Maybe I should try a wee bit harder…”, he added, glancing around as if he was trying to spot some place suitable for his intentions. “Ye´re still no wearing yer knickers… It would be easy…And it wouldna take long”, he then murmured against her neck.

“Only in your bloody dreams!”, she laughed and broke herself loose. “Are you seriously trying to get us arrested? You´d better keep your pants on until we´re behind four walls”, she took a few safe steps away from him.

“Four walls ye say…”, he furrowed his brows, as if he would have concentrated on thinking, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly.

“No. No! You know what I meant! Not until we´re at home and the door is tightly locked behind us. Capiche? Besides, we should eat something, don´t you think? There are plenty of nice restaurants on our way home. We could stop to eat before we go home. Indian, perhaps?”, she tried to distract him, knowing he must be hungry.

He looked at her, contemplatively. Then a mischievous smile appeared on his face as a sign of another master plan, developing in his mind.

“Okay. Indian ´tis. But take-away. And later”, he reached her in one leap, grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. “Now walk, woman. Faster! Home we go, then.”  

“Should the title be an impatient lover instead?”, she chuckled, trying to keep up with him.

* * *

**Claire had left the bedroom window** ajar to let the fresh night air in. The sheets were pleasantly cool on her bare skin as she woke in the early hours. Outside the bird was singing, species unknown to her, yet she was sure it was singing out of mere happiness. 

She peeked at the foot of the bed, but it was still empty. Poor Stewie had dramatically left the bedroom as Jamie had come to bed, ignored their gentle coaxing, and was probably sulking in its own bed in the hall. 

She stretched with pleasure, letting her body sink into the cool linen. She couldn’t remember the last time she´d felt this whole and aware of every inch of her body.

“Are ye awake?”, she heard his whisper behind her back. His voice was still hoarse from sleep. Then a finger was tracing down the length of her spine.

“Yes. Too happy to sleep, I suppose”, she shivered and turned around to cuddle against his wiry chest hair. “And you?”

“Aye… Just listening to that blackbird. Poor wee thing hasn´t found a wife yet”, he said, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. 

“Oh… And how do you know? I was just thinking it was an ode to happiness”, she whispered, muffled against his skin.

He lifted up her chin to see her face in the dimness, an amused smile glinting in his sleepy eyes. “Women. Ye never notice when we poor lads try to impress ye, do ye?”

“You poor lads? You and the blackbird? Is this some man-thing, then?”, she chuckled, running her fingers gently along his chin. God, she thought how much she loved his rough stubbled chin, as well as the rugged line of his jaw.

“Well, usually male birds sing to attract a mate, ken? And they are also more vividly colored than females, because they have to do all the wooing. And there´s tough competition; awfully hard to get yerself noticed. Women just choose the one they wanna”, he explained, giving her an askew smile.

“I see… Sounds almost like you were talking from personal experience? Hard to believe that, though. A sturdy lad like you…”  

“Maybe I am”, he grinned. “There once was a lady, who used to walk her wee dog in the park. And no matter how hard I tried to parade in front of her, she never gave me a single look…”  

“What?”, she lifted up her head to see him better, frowning in puzzlement. “I did look at you…That awful morning… Jesus…Just don´t remind me about it… But it´s good to know you were intentionally prancing around and showing off your arse. Maybe it wasn´t my fault after all”, she chuckled.

“Ye did look at me then, and no only my arse, Claire, be honest!”, he teased her, gently poking the end of her nose. “But before that morning I was already becoming desperate. I thought that maybe I should collapse to the ground in front of ye to make ye–”

“Hey-hey…Wait! Before that morning? You´d seen me before that day?”

“Aye…Long before…As I said, women, ye just dinna notice. Ye just think that the blackbird is singing out of happiness even though the wee bird shouts his longing and his pain…´Tis awfully hard for us men.”

For a long moment, they just looked at each other as she didn´t really know what to say. His confession had come out of blue. Then she leaned to kiss him; long, soft and lingering.

“I´m sorry for the lonely blackbird - if he hasn´t found his mate yet”, she whispered against his mouth. “But I hope you feel that you already have…”

“Och… I´ve been certain about it since the day one! Even before I kent yer name or the sound of yer voice”, he proclaimed without fail. “I just had to give ye some time to notice me and understand that I´m actually quite a catch…”, he laughed softly and immersed himself in rediscovering her lips.

Their kisses became more deep and intense with each passing minute. He lifted her leg over his hip, clasped her tight and moaned softly with pleasure. “Claire… mo duinne… I canna be this close to ye and no to want ye…”, he sighed, caressing her hips and thighs and pulling her against him with each stroke. Then he suddenly seemed to remember something. “But how do ye feel, Claire?”, he blurted out.

“Mmm..”, her eyes drifted shut as she absorbed the strong, masculine feel of him. “Good, Jamie. So good.”

He didn´t pull away from her but stopped caressing her thigh. “No… I mean…How d´ ye feel about us?”, he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “I dinna want to push ye… but if ye´re certain…Well, I´d like ye to meet the bairns, if only… If only ye think ye´re ready? It´s just that after spending this whole day wi´ ye and sleeping in yer bed, it kills me to think that we would go back to what it was..Those brief stolen moments. I wanna share my everyday life wi´ ye Claire. I wanna wake up wi´ ye, have breakfast wi´ ye, kiss ye whenever I want to, talk to ye…”

Her eyes snapped open, the desire still clouded her vision, but her mind was clear. “I do believe in us”, she smiled with confidence she would never have thought possible. “You´ve given me back my ability to trust. I am ready”, she said and a frog formed instantly in her throat as she realised how true it was. Then she looked at him, her lashes fluttering, trying to hold back the sudden tears. 

“And I wanna live up to that trust. I don´t ever want to let ye down”, he whispered and kissed her eyelids, making the tears disappear. 

Not saying more, he cupped her butt and slowly pushed himself inside her, needing to feel every inch of her.  For a long time he remained still, relishing the feeling of it before slowly withdrawing and plunging back in. “Tell me Claire what is this between us. Even when I’ve just left ye, I want you so much my fingers ache with wanting to touch ye again”, he cupped her face in dark, looking at her straight in the eye. “Does it ever stop, the wanting?”, he half moaned, half whispered. 

“I don´t know. Jamie. I really don´t.”

  
And the blackbird kept on singing.


	5. The Beach

**“Goddamn!”, Claire shouted** and pushed her hand under the cool running water. “Why, for fuck´s sake, did I ever promise to do this? This fucking oven isn´t even working properly and now I burned my fucking hand. Fuck!”

“That´s three fucks in one sentence…” Joe said, looking at his longtime friend raging in her kitchen. “Maybe you should calm down a bit, Lady Jane. You´re going to meet his kids, that´s all. It´s not a bloody baking competition.”

He felt amusement flicker inside him, but tried to hold his face steady as he knew Claire well enough to know what a careless grin would do if the timing was wrong. “You´ll see, they will love ye. Well… uh… At first they might hate you, but eventually they´ll love you”, he muttered the latter part of the sentence under his breath.

“Well… if my apple pie gives them all food poisoning, I´m able to take care of them, at least”, she snorted with annoyed expression. “Seriously, Joe, what should I do? I´m not basically the mother-type, I´ve always known that. I cannot bake, I´m bad-tempered, I swear like a bloody old-fashioned trooper, I like whisky, I´m more interested in science and art than playing with dolls or trucks… If someone would choose the horrible stepmother of the year, she´d have all my characteristics.”

“Well, that all might be true, but if you want to continue to fuck their dad you just have to adapt”, Joe stated with a laconic voice.

Claire gave him a furious look. “Just to let you know, our relationship is a hell of a lot more than just fucking!”, she snapped.

“I know, I know. Jesus. Don´t get your knickers in a knot”, he sighed. “But listen to me - you are going to meet his kids, but you deal with kids every day for god’s sake. You are good with them. And I don´t think that the hot lover of yours judges you based on your apple pie”, he said, trying to lighten her mood.

Sighing, Claire glanced out of the kitchen window and wrapped her hair into a loose bun. “I´m being ridiculous, I know…You shouldn´t have to put up with all of my crap today, I´m sorry”, she said, nervously fiddling with her hands. “It´s just that everything has been so bloody perfect and I´m afraid I´ll manage to ruin it all somehow. If his kids don’t approve of me… well, I´m pretty sure he´ll–”  

“Hey.. now..stop it!”, Joe interrupted her. He poured some whisky and thrusted the glass into her hand. “No more till you´ve finished this. You can´t curry their favor or bribe them to like you. You can only be yourself and give them enough time to get to know you.”

Claire´s picnic basket was ready on the kitchen table - only waiting for the apple pie to come out of the oven. Jamie had promised to pick her up in half an hour and in her current mood she was more than glad that Joe had popped up unexpectedly. Even though he very often irritated the hell out of her, he also managed to put the lid on her boiling emotions.

The picnic would be the first time for her to meet Marsali, Joan and William - Jamie´s three children - and she was nervous as hell, even though they had planned it all as well as they possibly could. Jamie had suggested they would have the picnic on the beach because William loved playing in the water and the girls liked sand, swimming and sun as well, so hopefully they all would be in good mood and enjoying themselves, no one would get bored and no sisterly quarrels would occur. It seemed that even the whimsical Scottish weather goddesses chose to be on their side as the sun was shining and no clouds threatened the western sky.

Claire took the glass and emptied it in one swallow. “I guess you´re right. Cheers!”, she tried to smile. “Here´s to all bad stepmothers around the world…”

“That´s my girl! At least you are hell of a good looking stepmother, that´s for sure. Just wiggle your delicious butt in those tiny shorts and no one thinks about your apple pie anymore.”

* * *

**The Gullabe Bents beach** was utterly beautiful. Long, sandy beach was sheltered by dunes, covered by grass and buckthorn bushes. It was only 20 miles from Edinburgh, but Claire had never visited the place. This summer had been exceptional in many ways. Not only that she had met the love of her life, but there had been more sunny days during the past months than in five previous summers together and Jamie had taken her to so many incredibly beautiful places where she never would have gone without him.  

The warm sand felt wonderful under her bare feet. Lying on her back, she crinkled her toes into the sand and dug some more until she reached the cool sand underneath. She could hear the kids playing nearby, but their voices were mingled with the reassuring sounds of the sea.

How weird, she thought; drowsily and her eyes closed - somehow the mesmerizing whoosh of waves reminded the sighs of breeze through the treetops. If there weren´t sand between her toes, she could have imagined that she was lying in the woods, under the huge leafy trees. Like nature could be playing exactly the same kind of music in two totally different places.

Claire was really enjoying this short moment of solitude. Three hours on the beach with Jamie and his children and she was worn out. Not that she hadn´t enjoyed it - she had, but she felt that she was under constant supervision and it was rather exhausting. Jamie had probably noticed that because he suggested that he would take the kids to buy some ice cream.  

This is it what it would be, she thought, letting the hot sand run through her fingers. Our life together. Noise, constant talking, requests, noticing other peoples´ needs. And furthermore; arguments, compromises, fights, misunderstandings. She was realistic enough to understand that everyday life was not a sunny day on the beach.

_Are you really ready for all this, Beauchamp?_ She asked herself. _Do you feel strongly enough for him to take the whole package?_

She didn´t have time to think that through as she yelped, feeling a sudden cold dampness on her stomach.

“What the hell?… she opened her eyes, looking around furiously.

“Shh my love”, it was Jamie, kneeled beside her. He was chuckling, a bottle of suncream in his hand. “It just looked like your belly needed this”, he said, spreading the cool cream on her skin. “It´s a wee bit red.”

“Oh, is it?”, she arched up to see her stomach. She wasn´t much of a sunbather just because of this - her pale skin burned rather easily. “How did you manage to come so silently? Where are the kids?”

“There were huge trampolines near the shop and they wanted to jump for a while…”, Jamie murmured into her ear now, easing his warm large body beside her. “…and I ran here like hell to have a few minutes alone with ye…Jesus Claire, the way ye look…I should have thought about it when I suggested we´d come to the beach…”

“Thought about wh–?”, she tried to ask as his soft lips met hers.

“Mmm… how hard it´d be…”, he answered, sliding his hand under her red bikini top. “Looking at ye as ye prance around in yer ittybitty bikini and not being able to touch ye…” He was gently rolling her nipple between his fingers. “I´d just love to drag ye into those bushes…where no one could see us…”, he concluded, taking her mouth in a long kiss that left her breathless.

“Oh you poor lad, suffering, eh?”, she laughed softly and right at that moment she knew it. The answer. She was ready for whatever it may take to have him. Three kids and all the possible troubles. Ups and downs. Peaks and valleys.

Feeling an extreme tenderness towards him, she reached to caress his face and ran her fingers over his cheekbones towards his neck. “I can always put on my burka if that makes it easier for you”, she smiled, hoping that she could find proper words for her feelings and have courage to say them out loud.

“Och…Maybe ye should… Ye have another admirer, ye ken”, he grinned widely, his blue eyes now full of laughter. “D´ye wanna know what wee William said when ye were wading in the sea?”

“William?”, her brows furrowed in puzzlement. She could not help it - hearing that his children had talked about her, instantly made her nervous.  

“Aye…He said he liked yer bottom”, he guffawed with amusement.

“My…What? What did he say?”, her nervousness was replaced by confusion.

“Aye, the wee lad stood there, looking dreamily out over the sea, and just before ye ducked into the water he suddenly said that he really liked yer bottom…” Jamie was practically laughing with a sound of a horse now. “Thank God, the lad is only six. I may have ye at least the next ten years before ye choose me son over me”, he said, trying to ease his breath and then pressing a big wet kiss on her lips.

“Dear Lord…”, a sudden blush covered her face. “Why…I mean…Jesus”, she tried to laugh with him, not really succeeding.

“Weel, ye canna blame him. ´Tis a verra nice arse. The lad has good taste”, he smirked, pinching the appendage in question. Then he became a bit more serious and tucked her curls behind her ears. “How are ye doing mo ghraidh? Is everything alright?”

Claire was still distracted by William´s comment, shaking her head with confusion. “I am.. I´m alright… Should I put on my shorts?”, she quickly asked, bouncing up and starting to dig through her bag. “To cover me a bit more?”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her back against him. “Dinna be daft, of course not. No need to be embarrassed. Bairns are like that. They just say whatever comes to mind. William likes ye, I can tell that.”

Sighing, Claire nuzzled against his wide chest, the sprinkling of auburn hair tickling her nose. She had missed his touch as well. They had been very discreet in the presence of Jamie´s kids, she even more cautious to show her feelings than him. It meant no kissing or holding hands, only passing strokes and lightweight touches here and there. Looks. Secret smiles.

Deeply inhaling his scent, she smothered the sudden urge to taste his nipple; take it between her teeth. She knew how he would react to it - could almost hear him moan, low and deep in his throat - but it was no use to feed the fire as the kids could be back at any minute. “He does?”, she murmured, peppering light kisses on his chest instead. “And the girls? What do they think about us?”

“Weel..´Tis easier for Willy, he is younger and he doesna even remember his own mom”, Jamie evaded her question. “But everything is going to be alright. You´ll see. Just remember that I love ye and I want ye to be part of our life”, he added, lifting her chin to kiss her once more.  

She was just about to ask him if the girls had said something about her, but right then their tender moment was interrupted by a shrill boy´s voice. “Da! Da! I wanna go swimming and I want ye to throw me into the sea. Look! There are huge waves now! Please, Da!”

William landed on their blanket so fast that he brought tons of sugar soft sand on his feet with him. Reluctantly, Jamie resumed to a sitting position and gently pushed William away. “Watch out, lad. Dinna rush like that. Claire is now all covered with sand.”

William glanced at her, mildly embarrassed. “Oh, I didna mean it. S-Sorry…Claire”, he stammered with such a shy expression on his face that she felt her heart melted. Clearly he wanted to make a good impression on her and every little mistake made him ashamed. He was still getting used to her and there was something extremely endearing in the way he said her first name.  

“I don´t mind, really”, she gave him an encouraging smile that wrinkled her nose. “We´re on the beach, aren´t we? There´s supposed to be sand everywhere.”

A bright smile immediately enlightened the wee boy´s countenance. “Claire didn´t mind, da”, he grinned, half relieved - half cocky. All the shyness was wiped away in an instant.

“Aye, maybe no, but I did”, Jamie said dryly and grabbed his son in a bear hug. “I should actually throw ye in the sea. How come ye still have ice cream all over yer face, laddie? I thought I wiped it already.”

Claire watched the two of them together; father and son, so much alike. Watching William, she could see how Jamie had been as a little boy, so full of irresistible energy and innocent joy. And those crazy red curls that made William look like a mini version of his father. She could not help but smile, enjoying the sight.

“D´ye mind if I go and wash the wee pig?”, Jamie asked, capturing the giggling boy, whisking him in the air and planting him piggyback-style on his strong shoulders.

“No, of course not”, she smiled. Lying down, she stretched herself out on the warm ground and felt her skin absorb its heat once more. Just as she closed her eyes, she heard William´s booming voice as he was riding on his daddy´s shoulders. “I saw ye were kissing, da! Ye and Claire!”

_Holy shit, so much for the discretion then_ , she wrinkled her forehead, amused. Small pots really had big ears - and eyes as well.

She was all ears to hear Jamie´s answer though.

“Aye, so ye did?”, Jamie just blurted, his voice completely normal.

“Why did ye kiss her, da?”, the little boy continued, clearly interested to hear more of the intimacy he had witnessed.

“Weel… that´s what grown-ups often do when they like each other. It feels good wi´ someone ye like verra much, aye? ”, Claire could only see the black silhouette of them as she peeked through her lashes, but she heard the smile in Jamie´s voice.

“So ye like Claire a lot then?”

“Aye, I do, son. I like her verra much.”

“Good. I like her too.”

* * *

**_That´s one out of three_**. _Better than nothing,_ Claire snorted inwardly. William´s comment made her feel absurdly pleased. She already felt that there was a special bond between them. The girls were whole different matter though. They had been rather silent so far, polite - yes, but clearly reserved.

They had started their day by walking along the beach towards the place called Black Rocks and searched the ruins of the ancient church that was almost inundated by sand and covered by vegetation.

As a history lover, Claire had been thrilled to see the remains of the chapel that was used in the 1500th century and Jamie was beaming with pleasure to see her enthusiasm. William had certainly ran twice the length of their walk as he had been kicking his football to and fro, but the girls had just walked behind them, giving her one word answers when she had tried to create the conversation. Eventually she had followed Jamie´s example and left them alone.

Lying on her back, Claire recalled the sulking, introverted expression on their faces and wondered how on earth could she ever break the ice between them.  

“Where´s da… and William?”, Joan´s tart voice startled her from her thoughts.

_God dam, how are they all able to sneak up so silently,_ Claire gathered herself for a second before answering her. “They went swimming. Did you have good time on the trampolines? I noticed that there´s also a horse stable nearby. Your father told me that you do horseback riding, Joan?”, she dragged herself to a sitting position to see the girls better.

Joan didn´t answer but just sat on the large blanket, keeping the safe distance between her and Claire. Marsali didn´t come near and decided to sit on the hot sand instead. The girls exchanged a meaningful look and Claire´s instincts were screaming that they were up to something. It was as obvious as the dark clouds gathering in the sky would be promising rain.

She didn´t have to wait for too long.

“So, how old are ye, Claire?”, Marsali suddenly blurted. She smiled at Claire, but there was a hint of malice in her voice. Joan breathed audibly, looking a bit frightened and decided to stare at her toes as her big sister scowled at her.

_Okay, Beauchamp. Round one is starting. Just remember that they are still kids and Jamie loves them_. Claire took a deep breath, plastered a smile on her face and decided to keep her voice steady not matter what. “I´m 38.”

“Oh…”, Marsali replied and a nervous snigger escaped from Joan. “Ye´re much older than da, then. That´s kind of weird…”

“How´s that so weird? It´s only couple of years. It doesn´t mean so much when you are as old as we are”, Claire answered, in deliberately indifferent tone.  

“Da usually likes much younger women, that´s all”, Marsali shrugged her shoulders, very innocently, a smug smile on her face. “All the girls at his gym are, ye ken…And they are crazy about him and he.. uh…Well… ye ken… ”

Claire didn´t _ken_ , but understood perfectly well what Marsali was trying to imply.

Joan seemed to get courage from her sister as she now took part in the conversation “And our mom is much younger. She´s almost ten years younger than ye are”, she added and Marsali gazed at her approvingly.

“I know she is”, Claire decided to keep her answers short as it seemed that this wasn´t meant to be a friendly conversation. She didn´t know what to think. A part of her felt sorry for the girls for their naive attempt to provoke her, but another part was annoyed nevertheless.

She stole a glance at the sea to see whether Jamie and William would be coming soon, but the two of them were still playing in the water and joyful screaming and excited splashing were telling they weren´t about to stop too soon.

“Has da told ye about our mom, then?”, Marsali sounded a bit disgruntled. “Then ye must know how pretty she is…”, she snapped.

“She has long blond hair”, Joan joined the choir. “And big blue eyes. Da used to say her eyes are as bonnie as a deep forest pond.”

“Aye. He says that”, Marsali confirmed, observing Claire´s reactions. “Yer hair…weel…´Tis rather.. curly”, she said, emphasizing the word curly. Then she rolled her eyes, eliciting another nervous giggle from Joan.

_Be adult, Beauchamp! Just be the bloody adult!_ Claire commanded herself, the smile frozen on her face. “I´m sure she must be pretty as she has gotten two so beautiful daughters”, she forced the friendly words out of her mouth. “You both look like her, don´t you?”    

Evidently, the girls didn´t expect such an amicable answer as Joan blushed and decided to focus on her toes once more. She gave a quick look at Marsali, but her big sister wasn´t as easily destabilized. Marsali just grunted and threw her lustrous long hair behind her.

Marsali was unusually confident for a 14-year-old, Claire thought. The girl was stretching out her long legs and scrutinising her own appearance, a self-satisfied smile curling her lips. It might be that she had gotten so many compliments on her undeniably pretty looks that hearing some nice words from her father´s girlfriend meant next to nothing. Claire decided that she should focus on Joan instead of her sister, but before she was able to make up anything, Marsali struck out again.

“Why don´t ye have any bairns of yer own?”, Marsali asked, her round blue eyes so innocent.

“Well…”, Claire gulped. She didn´t like the direction the discussion was going. She could deal with the nasty and immature comments of her looks or age, but there were certain aspects of her personal life that she really didn´t want to share with these girls. “I´ve lived alone for many years…I´m a doctor, you know, and doctors used to work a lot…”

“But da told that ye´ve been married as well. Didn´t ye want kids?”, Marsali interrupted her. She seemed to have instincts of a shark as she was trying to find Claire´s weak spot.

“I like kids, of course”, Claire replied, feeling the familiar pain in her heart. “But not every married couple is able to have children, even if they´d like to…” She had to struggle to keep the lopsided smile on her face.

“Oh, Is it why you got divorced? Are you barren, then? That´s too bad”, Marsali blurted out, her voice so carefree that Claire would have wanted to smack the smug smile off her face.

_Barren. How the hell she even knew that word,_ Claire cursed silently and wanted to kick Jamie for telling the girls about her marriage. She couldn´t help it, childlessness was still a raw wound in her mind and now this ignorant girl was twisting a knife in it without a simple clue how painful it was.

“And now ye are too old, of course…”, Marsali continued, observing her face with cold interest like a natural scientist would observe a pinched butterfly. And that was exactly how Claire was feeling at the moment.

“Da is coming”, Joan suddenly hissed a warning and the girls exchanged another meaningful look. It was more than obvious that this conversation was carefully planned.

Counting quietly to ten, Claire decided to try once more before Jamie would reach them. “I really hope we could be friends one day”, she said and hated how weak and unstable her voice sounded. “I know this is a new situation–”

“Weel.. No offence, Claire, but I dinna believe ye´ll be around long enough for that”, Marsali whispered as Jamie and William were coming closer. “Da will get bored, he always does…probably swop ye for a younger lass. Besides, we´ll do just fine wi´out ye in this family…”, she hissed, leaving Claire speechless.

“Hi da!”, Marsali then greeted in completely different tone, her face all sunshine.

Claire tried to keep her face steady, but Jamie still gave her a curious look, raising his eyebrows questionably. “What ye´ve been up to?”, he inquired while sitting beside Claire and wrapping William into a big towel.

“Och, nothing really. Just talking. Getting to know each other a wee bit better, da”, the daddy´s little angel responded, showing no signs of guilt or repentance.

* * *

**After the long day outdoors** , Claire´s skin radiated warmth and she would have needed cool shower more than hot bath, but when she finally got back home, she just wanted to soak away the stressors of the last eight hours. So she filled the tub to the brim, added some coconut scented bath salt and then let her body slip into the water.

It was a bliss. Safe as if she´d been back into her mother´s womb and that was exactly what she was missing. Warmth and comfort. She felt hot tears just behind her eyelids and they started to fall down her cheeks even she didn´t open her eyes. Silently crying, she licked the salty tears as they reached her lips.

She was just tired to the bone.

They had spent couple of hours on the beach after her conversation with the girls and she had used all her energy to act normal, being very aware of her glass face that usually unfolded all her feelings. Jamie, who was always so perceptive, had seen through her, but they didn´t have any good opportunity to talk and perhaps it was better that way because she didn´t really know whether she should have told him about Marsali or not.

She wasn´t sad, really, more like disappointed, but the resigned feelings were gradually replaced by anger the more she thought about the day.

_Well, at least now I know where I stand. The girls hate me, as simple as that. But I´ll be damned if I let some teenagers push me out of Jamie´s life._

Suddenly Stewie barked couple of times and she heard the door slamming. Jamie and Joe were the only ones who had the keys to her apartment, but she wasn´t expecting either one of them.

“Who is it?”, she yelled and reached her bathrobe, but right then Jamie appeared at her bathroom door. She let the robe drop on the floor. “Oh, it´s you. Why are you here?”, she whispered, her anger disappearing.  

Jamie didn´t say a word but just started to remove his clothes, never losing the eye contact with her while he was doing it. His eyes were tired, gentle and concerned. He took off his light blue t-shirt and let his worn jeans drop onto the floor.

No matter how many times she had seen his body, it always left her breathless. She let her eyes to linger over his wide chest. Hip bones. Crisp hair that led from his belly button to his cock.

Standing naked in front of her, he finally opened his mouth. “Move a bit”, he breathed and made a move towards the tub.

“Wait. I´ll have to let some water out first”, she laughed softly. “We don´t want to cause a flood, do we?.”

Once the water level was reduced, she scooted up in the tub to allow him to step in behind her. He took her to sit between his legs, pulled her against his chest and pressed his face against her wet hair.

His hand was cupping her left breast, weighing its´ slippery roundness, but the gesture was more tender and reflective than lustful as if it was just a place where his hand belonged.

In the languid warmth of the bath, their damp bodies started to coalesce into one. “Hi”, he whispered after a while, sounding a bit melancholic.

“Well, hi…”, she took his large hand and kissed his fingers. “Why did you come? Not that I´m complaining…”

“I had to. I ken how the girls behaved”, he let out the deep breath. “I´m so sorry, Claire. I kent it would be difficult for them but I never guessed Marsali would act that way.”

“Oh”, Claire let out a surprised breath and turned to glance at his face.

“I saw that something happened between you three. You really cannot hide much from me, love. And I made Joan to tell me once we got back home”, he added.

“What did she tell you?”

“Everything. All that crap Marsali told ye of how I´d prefer younger women and how I would be changing lassies as often as my bloody socks. You didn´t believe her, did ye?”, he asked, a painful expression on his face.

“Well…ahem…no, not really…”, she said, but her voice lacked conviction. She turned her eyes away from him, ashamed, as she recognized that a tiny part of her had suspected him.

“Jesus…Claire”, he gasped, seeing the hesitation in her. “Ye´re everything I could ever want. I dinna need anyone else…I never thought I could love a woman like I love ye…” He sounded frustrated and squeezed his eyes shut.

“And I love you”, she mumbled, pressing her lips against his chest “It´s just… I´m sorry…” She run her finger over his wrinkled forehead. He looked exhausted and suddenly much older than his years. “Did you have a fight with the girls?”, she asked.

“Weel…what d´ye think?”, he sighed. “I was pissed off and nearly dragged Marsali here by her hair to apologize, but Suzette talked me out of it. I called Murtagh, ye ken, and they came to watch the kids as I was coming here. The girls ended up crying, but I suppose in the end it was all good as now they know how I feel about ye… And I also cut off their hopes for that their mom and I would ever get back together. It´ll never happen.”

“I´m so sorry for you dear”, she caressed his cheeks and chin. “It must have been hard. For all of you”, she then circled her fingertips over his temples eliciting another sigh from him.

“Claire…mo ghràidh…Chan eil mi ag iarraidh gun caill sibh a ’  
”, he was suddenly so emotional that all the words running out of his mouth were only Gaelic. The language of his heart. “Chan eil mi a ‘fàgail, mo ghràidh”, he almost sobbed and once he opened his eyes, she saw that they were watered. “I got scared that I´d lose ye. I dinna want to lose ye Claire…”

“Shh, you silly boy”, she murmured against his neck. “You won´t find me so easy to get rid of. We´ll get through this, together”, she continued, her heart filling with tenderness so strong she feared that it might actually break.  

“Can I stay the night?”, he whispered then, his lips against her forehead. “I need ye Claire. I need to feel ye next to me tonight.” His wet chest was heaving as his breathing was becoming ragged.

“Why do you even ask? Of course you can”, she smiled and tried to take the white terrycloth towels, hanging on the wall.

“Let me take ye to the bed then.” His long hand reached the cloth more quickly. “And let me love ye.”


	6. The House

**Jamie had a sickly** , nervous feeling in his stomach. He tried to calm his nerves by regulating his breathing into ten second cycles - four seconds for each inhalation and another four for exhalation, keeping two seconds pause in the middle. As a personal trainer he knew multiple techniques how to manipulate his mind with certain exercises and controlling his breathing was one of the simplest ways to relax.

Except today it didn´t work that well.

“Ye did what?”, he still could hear Jenny´s yell from the last night in his ears. “Are ye out of yer mind, ye clotheid? Ye didna ask Claire first and ye thought she would be delighted?”

Well, he didn´t actually know what he´d been thinking, but after his dear sister had let him hear how irresponsible and inconsiderate he had been, he was nearly panicking… one-two-three-four…

Sitting in his car, he fiddled with his mobile noticing that Joan posted some pics to her Instagram and William texted that Marsali had picked him up from school. The message was almost incomprehensible, basically just a long row of different emojis, but Jamie assumed that everything was fine there.

His hands felt hot and sticky on his phone and he almost dropped it as it peeped again. It was Claire this time. Just a simple message to let him know she was coming. A Dhia. He breathed audibly and silently started to count again - until he saw her.

It was impossible not to notice her. Her orange wool coat was blazing in the warm autumn sun as she walked across the hospital yard and jumped lightly over the small puddles that the recent shower had left on the ground. Right at that moment she decided to let her hair loose from the tight bun, shaking her wild curls, and the sight made him hold his breath altogether. It had something to do with the light that dappled her hair and the fact that she simply looked like an embodiment of untameable beauty.

They had been together almost six months now but there were still moments like this when time stilled and he couldn´t believe that she was really his. She caught his gaze through the car window and a big smile enlightened her face, making his lips curl as well.  

A few more steps and she closed the distance between them, diving into the car. Before Jamie was able to say anything, she leaned to press her moist lips against his mouth. It wasn´t just a quick kiss hello but lingering and filled with promise. Crisp air had flooded her cheeks and the combination of the hot warmth and refreshing coolness was intoxicating. The feel of her simply assaulted his senses.

With his eyes shut, Jamie was still recovering from the sudden sensation as she withdrew from him and greeted him with an amused voice. “Hullo love…so where is it? My surprise? I´m all ready.”

“Oh”, he gasped and peeked at her through the half-closed lids, seeing the excited expression on her face. She looked like a wee lassie or a kitten, full of restless energy and anticipation. “Eager, eh?”, he let out a small laugh.

“You bet I am”, she poked him on the nose with her finger and glanced at the back seat to see if the aforementioned surprise was hidden there.

“´Tis no a package but a place”, he chuckled and started the engine. “I´m going to take ye somewhere”, he added. 

Where? That he wouldn´t say, of course not, it would have ruined the surprise, but after the 20 minutes of Claire´s insistent questioning, he suddenly stopped the car and pulled out a black scarf from the glove compartment.

“What? Are you going to cover my eyes? Seriously, Jamie?”, Claire gasped, but allowed him to fold the fabric around her head. “Could you now please tell me where are going?”, she pleaded. “I know Jenny and Ian are living near. Are we going to meet them? I hope it´s not a surprise party, I look like shit”, she continued, trying to make him slip something, but Jamie just laughed and kissed her hand.

“Remember, no peeking!”, he warned her and pulled their car back onto the main road.

Temporarily losing her eyesight, Claire could almost hear how her heart started to race. She felt tension coiling tight inside of her and it didn´t help that Jamie was also unusually quiet. It was almost scary and she groped to touch his thigh to ground herself. “Jamie?”, she whispered, her voice suddenly a little shaky.

“It won´t take long anymore”, he reassured her and Claire felt how the vehicle turned to a slightly bumpy sand road and finally stopped.

“Dinna take it off just yet”, Jamie grabbed her hand as she was already trying to remove the blindfold. Then she heard how Jamie stepped out of the car and came to the other side to help her out.  

He had tied the scarf so tightly it was impossible for her to see anything, but by contrast her other senses were alerted. The air around them scented with fresh pine trees and earthy scent of leaf mould, the aroma being more strong and virulent than in the city.

“Where are we?”, she asked one more time as her hands reached out.

“Ye´ll see soon enough…”, he laughed. “Ye sniff like a wee truffle pig…Yer nose is actually vibrating.”

The gravel rasped under her shoes as he took her hand, placing the other hand on the small of her back, and started to guide her slowly forwards.

* * *

**They were inside** and it was a house, obviously, Claire thought and listened to the echoes of their footsteps. The space sounded empty - and vast. Was it an old church?, she wondered, but rejected the idea immediately - it didn´t smell like it, neither did it radiate coldness and dampness, that the old stone churches almost always did, even in the summer. She didn´t mind to be called a truffle pig, but inhaled the scent as powerfully as she could. No, this place was much warmer. Apparently it wasn´t a surprise party either, because she could hear no suppressed sniggers and whispers - just her own frantic heartbeat.

“Are ye ready, mo leannan?”, Jamie asked. He was just behind her and his deep voice sounded oddly strangled. He helped her out of her coat and slowly stroked her bare arms, causing a wave of goosebumps to prickle her skin.

“Yes”, she whispered and felt how his hands started to remove the blindfold. “What is this place?”, she gasped, trying to cope with the sudden restitution of her eyesight.

They were standing in the middle of a huge hall. The rays of sun were reflected from the white walls, making the room surprisingly light, despite the fact that there were no lamps and it seemed to be rather old. The space was empty, except a classical Greek style statue, which was staring at them in the corner. A museum? No, it could not be, she was quickly calculating. There were no signs on display and it was too homelike for that.

Fluttering her eyes, she looked around, noticing next a massive staircase with its decorative wrought-iron balustrade, leading upstairs. Pulled as if by a magnet, she moved towards the beautiful handiwork and brushed the railing with her fingers.

“Jamie?”, she turned around, amazed. “What is this place, truly?”, she repeated, crinkling her nose.

Her face mirrored pure wonderment and Jamie let out a long, audible breath. “Weel…`tis a house…”, he blurted out the self-evident. His hands started to get sweaty again.

“I can see it´s a house… What is more a monumental house…”, she raised her dark brows questionably at him, expecting him to continue.

“D´ye like it?”, he evaded her question with another question, but didn´t wait for her answer. Instead, he allured her to follow him as he turned around and opened the double doors to the next room. There, as the centerpiece, sat a tall, highly ornate tile stove which made her to forget momentarily everything else.

“Look!”, she gasped and hastened to touch the stove, wiping quickly over its surface. “Oh my God, how beautiful it is…”, she sighed and added “It´s almost like… a person, don´t you think? It makes me want to talk to it…”

“Go ahead… Dinna let me stop ye”, he chuckled at her enthusiasm. Claire seemed to be as impressed by the place as he had been when he first visited here and a big rock rolled off his heart.

He observed her, feeling a lump in his throat, as she twirled around the empty living room, peeking out the windows and sweeping the windowsills in passing. Dear Lord, how he loved this woman.

All of the sudden she took a few dance steps towards him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Now you´re going to tell me why you brought me here or I bloody throttle you!”

“Don´t ye care to see the other rooms?”, he smiled, but could not squirm out of her grasp.

“Yes. I do. After you´ve told me, babe”, she insisted, pinching his earlobe.

“Weel”, he took a deep breath for encouragement. “This house could be a home… Our home… if only ye want to.”

“Jamie…” It was her turn to gasp for breath. “Do you mean…what I think you mean?”, she whispered.

“Aye…uh…I´ve…Weel, I´ve actually bought this place”, he blurted out and closed his eyes for a second, dreading her response. He felt her tensing in his arms and hurried to add “I ken I should have asked ye first! Jenny already chided me for being selfish and irresponsible–”

“Jenny knows? That you bought a house?”, she interrupted him. “And the kids?”

“Nay, I havena told them yet. I needed to take ye here first and…”

“And what, Jamie?” Claire withdrew from him to gather her thoughts. He had actually bought them a house without asking her first! Jesus! She knew he could be a hopeless romantic sometimes, but buying a good damn mansion was not like buying a bucket of roses. It was a huge decision…

Claire glanced at him and saw the desperate anticipation on his face, but she just didn´t know what to say. She opened and closed her mouth couple of times. “This is enormous”, she finally gasped. “How are we able to afford a place like this?”

Her mouth felt dry. She was too astonished to say more, having no idea where to start as a thousand more questions reeled in her mind. Like how she would get to her work or what would his kids think? Her relationship with the girls had improved during the past months but it was still rather fragile, especially with Marsali, and Claire could only imagine how the teenager would react when forced to leave the city and her friends to live under the same roof with her. God, it would start a bloody civil war.

“We can afford this”, Jamie reassured her, looking a bit more relieved. “Businesses are doing fine after I opened the new gyms in Glasgow and the price level in Meadows is rather high so we´re going to make good money of our apartments once they are sold…”

“Our apartments? Oh, now you want to sell my apartment?”, she snapped, her voice a bit more tense than she meant. “Perhaps you’ve already put it on sale? Being so effective and all”, she swiped her hand across her face, frustrated.

“Weel, aye, I-I thought that…” he stammered and blushed. _Damn, this wasna going in the right direction at all. Jenny warned me about this._ He decided to lay all his cards on the table, come hell or high water. “Claire…”, he coughed to clear his throat and took a few steps closer to her.

* * *

**She still avoided his gaze** as he took her hand and rubbed it with his thumb. She was pissed off and couldn´t help it - how he could have done such a major decision without talking to her first! And now he just announced that he was going to sell _her_ apartment! What did he think he was, her guardian?! God Damn!

“Claire”, he repeated and she gasped, realising that he was now lowering himself onto his knees in front of her. Still holding her hand, he raised it up a little and kissed it. Her eyes were captured by his lips and by the way he looked over at her, his eyes dead serious and tender.

_Bloody hell, no-no-no! This cannot be happening! He is going to propose_. The thought struck through her and made her heart skip a beat. The following thought made her slowly shaking her head. _That clever bastard, how am I supposed to stay angry at him now._

As in slow motion she saw how he took a small velvet box out of his pocket and opened it up for her to see. A ring. A beautiful, absolutely adorable silver ring with a small amethyst stone set in a filigreed mount.

“Claire, mo ghràidh, ye ken I´ve loved ye since that first night in the park. Since that day I´ve kent that I had to have ye… and once I did have ye… weel…these had been the happiest months of my life”, he said, pressing his lips against her palm.  

She swallowed audibly. That was the only thing she was able to do.

“I ken I can be a wee bit reckless, but when I saw this place, I just kent… See, I saw ye here. I saw the kids here. All of us, as a family”, he continued, tenderly stroking her hand. “I saw ye wandering there in the garden, throwing ball to Stewie and sitting on the bench under the cherry trees - there are plenty of cherries there, ken - and the bench would have our names carved on it instead of Walter and Ella… My love, My Claire, I saw it all… I saw ye planting yer wee herbs, yer hands all covered with muck and mould and yer hair blowing in the wind.  And I saw us in front of this stove, in the winter, enjoying the warmth and each other…”

Claire had shut her eyes since the beginning of his speech, holding back her tears. Hot, hot tears that seemed to have clustered there long before this day. During the long lonely years when she had shut herself out. Away from pain but also from love. The tears, oh how they were burning at the backs of her lids.

_Shit-shit-shit_ , she mumbled between her teeth to keep herself together as the feelings were washing over her in great tidal waves.

The peculiar response had Jamie to stop his romantic speech for a second but as he realised she wasn´t actually cursing at him, he continued, a little breathless.  “Claire, mo Sorcha, would ye share this dream wi´ me? Please. This house. This life. As my wife… Will ye marry me, Claire?”

At first she couldn´t open her mouth, fearing she would collapse altogether, but then she forced the answer out. “Yes… you bloody bastard, I will marry you…”, she whispered, barely audibly, and gave him her left hand. The silver ring fit perfectly on her finger, that much she was able to see before she slumped against him as her knees buckled under her.

It wasn´t exactly the kind of answer Jamie had expected, but feeling relieved he gathered her in his arms and kissed her everywhere he could reach; her forehead, her eyelids and her cheeks, now salty from tears. “Claire, ye just made me the happiest man alive…I promise ye won´t regret this”, he spluttered between his kisses, wiping his own eyes as well.

They stayed on the floor for a long time, pressed together, only breathing each other in and exchanging smiles and sweet little touches.

Her fingers entangled in his thick red curls, caressing his nape as she pressed her face against his neck right over the vein where she could feel his heart. His beautiful, generous, powerful, soothing heart. Her own personal metronome.

He buried his face into her curls, smelling her unique female scent, l´eau de Claire, the overwhelming mixture of warm vanilla, unrecognizable wild grasses and the roughness of Highland breeze. The scent of his woman. A Dhia - His. Wife. Claire Fraser, he silently tasted the combination in his mouth, secretly hoping that she would actually take his name.

“That wasn´t fair…”, she sputtered after a while and hit him playfully on the chest. “I was supposed to be mad at you…How can I ever stay mad at you if you keep on acting like this?…”

Jamie chuckled and just wrapped his arms more tightly around her, not willing to let her go. Not willing to let this moment go.  “Mmmm…Maybe ye can stay mad at me some other day, aye?…”

Claire´s mind started to occupy with other things, however. Sighing, she withdrew herself from him a little and stretched her numb legs. “I´ve never been proposed to, you know”, she blurted out. “Well, once a drunken homeless man promised to marry me if I´d accommodate him on my sofa. Very gallant of him; to worry about my virtue. Didn´t let him in though”, she laughed dryly.

Jamie furrowed his brows in surprise. She didn´t sound bitter, only a little sad. Her ex-husband was the last person he wanted to talk about right now, but still he couldn´t help but ask. “But ye were married before. Frank didna?…”

“No, it sort of just happened”, she looked absent-minded as if she was gazing at something a long time gone. “I suppose it was a common decision. A reasonable thing to do after being together so many years. But I never felt that he actually wanted to marry me. Not that he was against the marriage. He just never wanted _me_ like that. And I never thought it would mean so much to me that someone did.”

He wanted to wipe the sad, dreamlike expression off her face, but didn´t have time as she already came back from her memories and smiled. “You did”, she breathed and caressed his lips with her finger, her golden eyes full of tenderness and love.

“Aye”, he quickly gasped, grasping her hand between his.  “I did. I do! More than anything.”

* * *

**Jamie had thought everything**. Feeling more than a wee bit light-headed, he ran towards his car to get a bottle of champagne and two glasses, he had hidden in the trunk. He would have sent Jenny a smug message that Claire had loved the house and wasn´t angry at him - not in the slightest - but he really didn´t have time for that as his wife - God, his soon-to-be wife! - was waiting for him inside.

She had actually loved the house. After they had been able to rise from the living room floor, she had investigated every corner and every closet and her excited yells had echoed around the empty rooms.

“Jamie, look! There´s a turquoise bathtub with legs.. I can´t take it! It´s so pretty I could eat it!”  
“Five bedrooms.. Have you already decided which one is going to be ours?”  
“I adore these stairs.. They make me feel like Vivien Leigh…Gone with the Wind, you know?”  
“The kitchen is huge… Uh.. But you know I´m not much of a cook, do you?”  
“Perhaps we could paint this room, love? Or put up new wallpaper? It could be a study.”

He had just followed her with a stupid grin on his face, listening to her enthusiastic squeals. There was nothing in the house he hadn´t seen already, but he saw everything anew through her eyes and noted her every reaction, giving answers if she wanted ones.  
“I ken and there´s even bigger tub downstairs…”  
“Ye can decide that, love…”  
“Aye, I ken…”  
“I doesna matter, mo ghràidh. There´s always take-away…”  
“Whatever ye want, dear…”

Now he hurried back inside with the sparkling wine. In the back of his mind he thought when and how he should tell the news to his kids. Maybe it would be safer if he alone told them first, just in case the girls didn´t immediately like the idea. He already knew how to win Joan to his side - there was a horse stable a stone´s throw away. Ponygirls were rather easy. William would also be happy wherever his games, legos and footballs would be. Marsali, on the other hand…

“Claire”, he called, entering the hall, eager to get back to his wife. _Wife, wife_ … _Christ, I just have to repeat the word over and over again_ , he smiled to his own foolishness and momentarily forgot everything else. Don´t worry about it - tomorrow will worry about itself, he suddenly heard his father´s voice in his ears. “Claire?”, he called her again.

“Over here, Jamie”, he heard her reply upstairs and started to take the stairs two at a time.

“Where are ye, love? I thought we could have a wee drink for our new home”, he asked, reaching the hall upstairs.

“I´m here, darling. Come find me, Jamie”, her voice sounded a bit husky, giving him an odd feeling. _What was she up to? Playing hide and seek?_

As he reached the bedroom door, he almost dropped the expensive bottle, he had especially saved for this occasion.

“A Dhia!… Claire…W-what are ye doing?” he stammered and petrified on the spot. His mind went blank for a second. Swallowing audibly, he looked for a table to put the champagne but there wasn´t any, of course not. The room was as empty as ten minutes ago. Stupidly, he glanced at the bottle and glasses, as though they were glued into his hands and he couldn´t get rid of them.

She wasn´t playing hide and seek. No, she actually wasn´t hiding anything at all.

His _wife_ , his soon-to-be wife, was standing in front of the window, stark naked.

Hearing him, she looked over her shoulder, smiling at him coyly. “When you first visited this place, you saw me in the garden all covered with muck. And you saw me in the living room. Tell me dear _husband_ , did you imagine me in this room as well?”, she asked, a mischievous undertone in her voice.

“Jesus”, he breathed. “Yes. No. I dinna ken. I dinna remember”, he said and finally managed to put the bottle down on the floor. His hands were suddenly shaking.

“Hmm.. Should I believe you, _husband_? With such a vivid imagination of yours - I´m almost sure you thought something…”, she turned around and bit her bottom lip not to giggle, seeing that his jaw almost dropped at the sight.

The last beams of the nearly sunken sun shone behind her, giving her a halo. There were bits of dust, floating everywhere around her in the air. It looked like she was entering the room through a gate of light, from another reality entirely. Or at least he thought so.

She looked so beautiful, so otherworldly, that a part of him wanted to cry - another part ravish her without delay, and he didn´t quite know how to combine these opposite urges. He ached to bury his head between those round and full breasts and let his hands roam down her back and all over her arse - he ached so much that he dug his fingers into his palms - but for some reason he wasn´t able to move. Not just yet. He wanted to look at her as long as he could be certain that the image would burn into his retinas and his heart and would never be able to erase. His wife; half-fairy - half-human… half temptress - half innocent.

“Well…”, she purred, enjoying the effect she had upon him. “Perhaps you can think of something now…”

“Aye…”, he simply nodded and started to take off his clothes. Slowly. Carefully, not to drop his gaze from her as if he was fearing that she would disappear.

Then he stepped into the light.  


	7. The Chaos

**“I hate ye - I hate ye!”,** Marsali yelled in nearly hysterical rage. “Ye´re taking everything that is important away from me. I might as well be dead!” 

Jamie sighed and tried to stay calm. It wasn´t easy for a man with the Fraser temperament and he knew that if he stayed here much longer, he would end up shouting as well. He glanced at Claire, hoping to get moral support, and she silently nodded at him while she was brushing and plaiting Joan´s long blond hair. You are doing well, love, her gaze seemed to signal, so he breathed deeply and tried one more time.

“Ye can hate me as much as ye like lass, but ´tis no changing the fact that ye must start packing. If ye dinna pack yer stuff, me and Claire will do it and we dinna ken what ye wanna keep or throw away”, he struggled to keep his voice steady.

“Ye´re ruining me life! Fuck ye all!”, Marsali shouted and banged the door shut behind her so hard that the framed photo, hanging on the wall, crashed to the floor.

Claire stretched out her hand to catch Jamie, but it was too late. He already rushed to the door and jerked it open. “Ye won´t talk to me like that, ye hear me! I´m yer father!”, he roared. His face was becoming dangerously red with anger. 

“Thalla gu taigh na galla!”, Marsali screamed and Claire assumed it was only good she didn´t know enough Gaelic to understand. 

“Why are Marsali and da yelling?”, William entered the kitchen, holding a lego warrior in his hand. He didn´t look too disturbed, but just sat at the end of table and twisted the sword of the little figure between his fingers, making sizzling battle noises with his mouth.

“Well, sweetheart, Marsali doesn´t want to pack her things”, Claire mumbled, holding a few pins between her lips as she was trying to get Joan´s French plait done. “And she has to, because the moving truck is coming tomorrow morning.”

“Who´s driving the truck? Is da driving?”, William lifted his gaze from the lego. Obviously the car was more interesting topic than the ongoing fight. “Can I sit in the driver´s seat when we´re going to the new home?”

“I suppose the movers are driving because it´s their truck. But you have to ask your dad…once he´s.. uh.. finished with Marsali…”, Claire answered, glancing at the door where Jamie was standing, his whole body rigid and tense with anger. 

_God, at the moment like this he certainly looked more like an ancient Viking warrior than the peaceful, middle-aged father of three_ , Claire thought, partly amused. 

Most people would have been afraid to face that 6.3 ft tall, sinister figure, but not his furious teenage daughter. For her he was just dad, no matter how loud he shouted. 

If someone would have told Claire a few months ago that she would be just sitting at the kitchen table and staying completely calm while the family war was raging around her, she never would have believed that. But people get used to everything and she already knew that interfering with the fight most likely wouldn´t help, on the contrary. Or at least she would have to wait for the suitable moment. 

Being the stepmother wasn´t the simplest of tasks. She was still learning what her role was in this family and mostly leaving the parenting for Jamie. They were his kids, after all. And she was just.. well just Claire, another adult in the family.

“Mo Chreach!”, Jamie huffed, frustrated, running his fingers through his hair. William glanced quickly at his father and then turned to Claire with a knowledgeable look on his face. “They are using foul words”, the boy commented, grinning. 

“Oh, I didn´t know you knew Gaelic that well”, Claire replied, assessing the plait that was finally finished. 

“Aye, I do”, the wee boy confirmed. “Uncle Murtagh has taught me. Ye wanna hear?”, he eagerly started to enumerate expressions Claire knew nothing about. “Taigh na Galla ort - Gorach pios de Cac - Mac na galla…”

“William Fraser!”, his father abruptly growled and his stern gaze made the wee boy to shut his mouth and concentrate on his legos again.

“Hmm, I suppose your daddy doesn’t  quite appreciate your language skills”, Claire settled for saying and looked around. 

After this little - not so relaxing - break they should go on with the packing. William´s room was all done, except some legos and his favorite cuddly toy, Peter Rabbit, which he still needed for sleeping. The big bookshelf in the living room should be dismantled, but for that she needed Jamie´s help.  There were piles of stuff and boxes everywhere - full, half-empty and empty, all shapes and sizes… Big black plastic sacks, filled with clothes and linen and trash… chaos, chaos, chaos… 

Actually the last four weeks had been hectic chaos. They have emptied her apartment first because it was sold within a week once it was put on sale. It had already been an exertion in their leisure hours. After that Stewie had temporarily moved to the Pugs, Claire´s former neighbours, and she had moved to live at Jamie´s, helping him to pack up everything. In addition to the packing, they had done a little painting and wallpapering at the new house, driving between the city and the new place four times a day at best . 

Claire was sure that they never would have made it without Murtagh, Suzette, Ian and Jenny - especially as Claire herself had felt unusually tired and sometimes even a little nauseated. She put the blame on stress and couldn´t wait for the day when they would finally get everything done and start their life together in only one place.

She was just about to leave the kitchen as William opened his mouth again. “Why Marsali dinna want to pack?” The little boy certainly was very talkative this evening. Claire sighed, but before she was able to make up any explanation, Joan took part in the conversation. “Because she´s having a stupid puberty tantrum, that´s why…”, she blurted out with a cocky voice. 

Claire lifted her brows in surprise - Joan was sometimes a very precocious young woman, but resisting her big sister was something quite new. During the last couple of weeks the tension between the sisters had intensified, however, as Joan had decided to like their new home and everything that came with in  (the horse stable nearby wasn´t the smallest reason) and Marsali certainly made her pay for it.

“What´s puberty?”, William asked, hearing a new word. “Claire, what´s puberty?”

“I can hear ye, you arsehole!”, Marsali appeared at her door and probably would have jumped down her sister´s throat if Jamie hadn´t grabbed her by her waist and pushed her back into her room.  

“Oh, shut yer geggie!”, Joan shouted back at her sister. 

“Claire, what´s puberty?”, William still tried to make his voice heard in the middle of the ruckus. 

“That´s enough! All of ye!”, Jamie roared again. “Ye, stay in yer room and start packing. And I shall hear no more about it! If ye dinna want to take anything wi´ ye, fine, that´s yer decision, but dinna blubber afterwards if something is missing. I mean it”, he slammed Marsali´s door shut behind him. 

“And ye, go to the living-room and start packing up the books. And William, living-room, Children´s Channel, now!”, he gave the commands like an army officer and even the kids realised that it was wiser not to protest.

“Christ…”, Jamie turned to Claire, letting out a deep breath. “D´ye recall if the new house had a lock on the basement door? I swear I´ll put them all there and let them out after couple of years…Or maybe an international work camp would accept teenagers…”  He collapsed into the kitchen chair with a grunt and closed his eyes. 

“`Tis either that ye really love me or ye must be out of yer wit…”, he then sighed and grabbed her hand, rolling her silver engagement ring with his thumb.

“How´s that?”, she laughed softly, moving up behind him and starting to massage his tense shoulders. 

“…´Tis either way if ye´re truly willing to move in together wi´ this bunch of loonies…”

“Well, they say that love is one form of insanity”, Claire grinned, moving her skilled fingers in slow circles over his muscles.

* * *

**A strange noise** woke Claire up in the early morning hours. It didn´t take much these days. So much had happened during the past weeks that it had affected her sleep. She was restless and stirred awake to the slightest sound several times a night. Sometimes groggy and sweaty after having too vivid dreams, the other nights completely alert as her mind was whirling with a thousand thoughts. Tonight she had to wait for a few seconds to realise where she was and then she concentrated on listening. Whole house was silent - except Jamie´s light snores, coming slow and regular beside her. Had she imagined everything? The bang and the rustle.  

She reached to see the numbers of the clock radio, burning at her from the gloom: 04.30. Only three hours and then they should start the packing again to get everything done before the movers would arrive.

Rolling around, she tried to find a better position, but couldn´t as her bladder felt uncomfortably full, once again.

_Christ. Where is all this liquid coming from? I drank barely anything during supper._

Sighing, she got up, as carefully as possible not to wake up Jamie, and started to grope her way to the bathroom. 

Entering the dusky hall, she swallowed a scream and a curse as she simultaneously hit her toe on the carton and saw a dark figure, moving near the coat rack. Looking around through dazed eyes, Claire didn´t recognize her at first. “Jesus. Marsali, is that you?”, she breathed. “What are you doing here this late?”

Looking frightened, the girl tried to turn her face away, but Claire caught a glimpse of her red and puffy eyes. Marsali didn´t usually evoke much sympathy or pity in her as the girl mainly let other people see the sharp-tongued side of her, but now she must have been crying and Claire felt a sting in her heart. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”, she asked, her voice a bit softer.

“Hmm”, Marsali grunted something incoherent and Claire could swear she was sobbing. 

“Well, I couldn´t sleep either”, Claire was desperately trying to figure out what to do next. Most likely she was the last person that Marsali would have wanted to show her vulnerability. For a second Claire wondered should she go and get Jamie, but rejected the thought as she knew how badly he needed his rest. “Uh.. Maybe..”, she stammered, pulling the rope more tightly around her. “Would you like to keep me company and have a cup of tea or something?” 

Claire was exhausted and longing to get back to bed, but she couldn´t just go and leave the girl crying, could she? It seemed Marsali was considering her suggestion as she sniffed, muttered something in Gaelic, took out a tissue and blowed her nose. “I-I…”, she started, her voice a bit shaky, but lost her courage and shut her mouth.  

Claire was just about take a few steps closer and touch Marsali´s arm for encouragement as the girl quickly pulled herself together. “No, I´m fine”, she blurted, her voice as hard as usual. “I was just packing like da told me to do”, she snapped and pushed herself past Claire, hurrying back to her room.

Still uncertain what to do, Claire stood still for a moment. She tried to give her a chance to talk, but should she go after her and try one more time? Then her bladder reminded her of its existence and she decided to leave Marsali be. If the girl would get angry or end up shouting at her, they would wake up the entire household and she could only imagine how furious Jamie would be of that. No, there had been enough fights for this day, she thought, turning the unforgiving lights of the bathroom on. 

* * *

**The following morning** Claire woke up twice. At first she languidly stirred to feel Jamie´s soft kisses on her neck. Her thin nightgown was bunched around her waist and her bare backside nestled against his large, warm body as his hand smoothed up her sides to cup her breast.

“Mmm”, she moaned, half asleep and her eyes closed. It was still completely dark and she had no idea how long she had slept after her nightly encounter with Marsali.

“G´morning, love”, he whispered into her ear. “Sorry if I woke ye. I just couldna resist…”, he mumbled against her skin, his voice husky and aroused. He pulled her against him until she could feel him, hard and pulsing, pressed against her bottom. He was wearing his flannel pajama pants, just in case William happened to wander to their bed after having nightmares - as he did couple of weeks ago - , but no fabric could cover the heat of him. 

“So you couldn´t…”, she breathed and reached behind her, drowsily brushing the long hard length of him through his pants.

“Today we´re really gonna start our life together…The new home…Then the wedding…”, he kept on whispering as he grinded himself against her and nuzzled his face into her hair, inhaling deeply.

“Mmm.. finally…”, she murmured, enjoying the soft intimacy that seemed to surround them.  

Their bodies became one in a dreamlike manner, moving in perfect unison. Slowly, hazily. She hadn´t even open her eyes yet when he filled her, calling her to follow his rhythm. 

She loved their wild and passionate lovemaking, which sometimes escalated to rough and possessive, but there was something special in the mornings like these when he made her float between earth and sky. Feelings washed over her like giant waves, strong enough to move any material along, but still so tender and soft that they lulled her back to sleep right after. In the back of her mind, she heard his sweet whisper when he got up from the bed and pulled the blanket over her.

* * *

**The next awakening** was totally different. The world seemed to blow apart: a woman was shouting, a child crying and the doors were banging. She startled awake, eyes darting wildly around as she heard Jamie´s infuriated voice: “Where the hell is she?”

Instantly Claire jumped out of bed and began pulling on her robe as she dashed towards the door. In the hall there was a full scene going on: Jenny and Jamie, both as agitated, yelling at each other, Ian trying to calm down his wife and brother-in-law, William still in his pajamas and crying and Joan trying to hold her little brother. 

In addition to the Fraser family, there were two totally strange men in navy blue haulers, trying to carry out the long kitchen table through that noisy crowd. It could have been a bad comedy, but apparently it wasn´t. 

Why Jamie had let her sleep this long? And why were they all yelling? Claire tried to gather her thoughts.  “W-what has happened?”, she stammered through her dry lips, trying to get her eyes properly open. 

“Marsali is missing!”, Jamie huffed, his face tense and every muscle alerted. “God damn! I´m gonna whip her arse once she´s found!”

“What do you mean she´s missing?” Claire breathed, a sense of guilt immediately engulfing her. 

“That she wasna in her the room and Joan found a note which says she´s gone”, Jamie sighed, raking both hands through his hair. “And she had to do it today… of all days…Like there wasn’t enough going on…”  

“Dear Lord..”, Claire sighed, trying to recall what actually happened last night when she saw the girl.

Evidently, her glass face betrayed her again as Jamie turned to look at her. “Claire? D´ye ken something?”, he said, wrinkling his brows questionably.

“I-I saw her…”, she stammered. “Last night when I went to bathroom. But I had no idea that she was going anywhere. She´d been crying and I was wondering should I wake you up, but then I didn´t. God. I should have…I´m so sorry…”

“Weel, the movers are here and the apartment must be empty by tomorrow”, Jenny determinedly took the reins of the conversation. “I´ve called Murtagh, he´s coming as soon as he can and Suzette will take care of wee William. We´ll manage here if ye´ll go after the lass, Jamie”, she started to give out tasks which was good in the extremely stressful situation like this.

“Aye”, Jamie simply nodded and started to pull his jacket on. There were deep, wavy wrinkles on his forehead Claire hadn´t noticed before.

Quietly, she sneaked beside him, handing him his woollen beanie and gloves. “Do you have any idea where to go first? Is her mobile on?”, she asked, stroking lightly his cheek. “I´m so sorry…If I only would have guessed…”

“Och… ´Tis no yer fault”, he pressed a quick kiss on her forehead, but for some reason his voice lacked conviction. “She won´t answer her phone, but I´ll check her friends first”, he called out, his other foot already out of the door.

Claire returned to their bedroom and started to put her clothes on, still having rather mixed feelings of guilt and anger. Yes, she could not help it - she was mad at Marsali as well. This could have been a beautiful first day of their new life together, but that selfish girl had turned it into the complete opposite. The rational part of her knew how uncertain Marsali must be as she hadn´t gotten the best possible start for her life, but that didn´t change her feelings for the girl right now. 

_Dear Lord, how do I ever learn to love that girl? Is it even possible? To love someone else´s child like your own?_

Once back in the living room, Claire suppressed the urge to curse out loud, channeling her worry and anger into dragging the heavy cartons behind her. Jenny was already there, filling the last cartons with some decorative items and the dishes they had used last night. She observed Claire´s wrestling with the cartons for a while until she opened her mouth. “Maybe ye should go to the new house to instruct the movers where to put everything…”, she suggested, looking at her contemplatively.     

“Yeah?”, Claire straightened up and wiped the sweat off her face. Suddenly, she experienced a wave of nausea, coming over her and she had to sit down on the floor. “I´m sorry, I don´t know…why”, she panted and breathed deeply until the churning feeling in her stomach seemed to pass on its own. “Must be the stress…What did you say?”

“Weel, ye shouldna overdo yerself and lift heavy boxes like that. Trust me. ´Tis no wise in yer condition”, Jenny said. “Go wi´ the movers. We´ll pack up things here”, she continued as if the subject would be undeniably settled by that.

“In my condition? What do you mean my condition?”, Claire asked, a little irritated. She knew perfectly well she wasn´t as fit as the Fraser siblings, who spent half of their lives at the gym, but implying her condition was poor wasn´t tactful and besides, it wasn´t like Jenny at all as she usually was very outspoken. 

Going quickly through these thoughts, it suddenly hit her. No, it couldn´t be, could it? It´s not possible! She couldn´t have… Claire´s eyes widened with awe and confusion and her hands dropped to her side as the shock filtered into her, making her limbs go numb. Stunned, she sought Jenny´s gaze for confirmation. 

“Ye did no ken? hmrp…Being a doctor and all…”, Jenny grunted, but a warm smile was spreading on her face. “And Jamie? He doesna ken either?”

  
“No”, Claire was barely able to whisper. “No, he doesn´t.”  


	8. The Test

**Finding someone** who doesn´t want to be found is almost an impossible task. At least in a large city like Edinburgh where there was an endless list of places where one tiny girl was able to lurk - cafes, shops, art galleries, old churches, remote wynds…   
  
Jamie wandered around the city centre for six long hours, walked along South Bridge towards Princess Street, checked the railway station and the bus station - both twice - walked across the Princess Street Gardens and the University campus, strided through museums and the Central library.   
  
Couple of times he ran after a girl who had looked exactly like Marsali from behind, mumbling breathless apologies as it turned out to be a wrong person.   
  
What in the morning had been drizzle turned into a steady, cold, raw rain by afternoon. He was drenched, which didn´t exactly improve his mood, ricocheting from anger to sheer terror. He did his best to keep the tight rein on his emotions, refusing to think what could happen to a fifteen-year-old runaway girl if she chose to stay unfound for long. Yet, he recognized the panic sneaking upon him as the hours went by. It was still afternoon, but what if she didn’t come home by night?

He visited Marsali´s friends, but not even Anna, her closest friend, seemed to know where she was. Marsali´s phone was chiming as he called her, but the damn wisp of a girl just refused to answer.  
  
 _What the hell the lass is thinking? What made her to do something like this?_  
  
No matter how hopeless the aimless wandering was, Jamie didn´t want to give up. Every time he considered going home, he felt that she could be just around the corner so he went on… and on.   
  
A gurgling sound, coming in protest from his empty stomach, finally made him to return to his car. He hadn´t eaten all day and needed food, dry clothes and good ideas what to do next. He had already started wonder whether he should call the police, but it wasn´t an easy decision as child welfare involvement could have serious consequences.    
  
Jamie drove towards their new home like he was on autopilot, pondering when exactly he should call Laoghaire to let her know about Marsali´s escape. Despite her careless nature, she still was Marsali´s mother, and moreover her other guardian. The mere thought made his stomach clench with anxiety. No doubt, Laoghaire would flip out and her hysteric outburst was the last thing he needed right now on top of everything else. 

* * *

  
**The yellow mover´s truck** was already gone when Jamie arrived the yard of their new house. Good grief, he sighed; he hadn´t even thought about the relocation and left Claire to deal with it by herself. Or not exactly by herself, but without his help anyway. Just yesterday he had been excited about their new home and everything that came with it, but now he felt only numb. With heavy and slow steps he entered the hall where four pairs of eyes immediately focused on him. They all asked the same silent question and he simply shook his head. No, nothing, not even a slightest clue.  
  
Claire hastened to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Ignoring his wet clothes, she pulled him softly against her and he would have wanted to give up in her embrace, just collapse and cry. But he couldn´t afford any weakness. Not just yet.   
  
“We´ll find her. Everything will be alright”, Claire whispered, stroking his damp curls and letting her energy to seep through her fingers into him. Or at least that was how he was feeling, gladly receiving the strength she was giving him.  
  
“Aye”, he breathed, burying his face into her curls.  “Of course we will.”  
  
Joan sat on the footstep of the stairs, deep in her thoughts, looking at them. Seeing her father, who usually was strong - almost omnipotent - so powerless and feeble was a whole new experience for her. She bit her nails, unable to look at him any further.

“Da…”, Joan breathed, still puzzling over the possibilities in her head, but nobody heard her silent whisper. “…Da…I may ken where she is”, after the hard inner struggle she finally spoke up, looking at them all from under her brows.  
  
“What?! Ye ken where she is?”, Jenny dropped the boxes she was carrying to the kitchen and took a few quick steps to face her niece. “Why havena ye said anything? Ye´ve let yer da go through all the trouble and just sat there on yer arse!”, Jenny´s voice was raising and it looked like she was struggling not to slap her.   
  
Jamie came closer and touched Jenny´s arm to silence his sister. His face was so serious that Joan just couldn´t take it, and burst into tears. “…I promised her. S-she made me swear no to say a word…”, she hiccupped and ran into his father´s arms, burying her face into his chest. “I´m sorry da…I´m sorry…”  
  
“Shhh…´tis okay, lass”, Jamie soothed her, stroking her back with his large hands. “But now ´tis time to tell, aye? Do ye ken where yer sister is?”  
  
“I´m no sure…”, Joan snuffled once while weeping. “…but she might be wi´ Fergus…”  
  
“Fergus?! Why on earth would she be wi´ Fergus?”, Jamie asked with angered puzzlement.   
  
“S-she´s in l-love wi´ him”, Joan stammered. “…She says that he´s her b-boyfriend…But ye canna tell her I told ye.. She will kill  me if she founds out–”  
  
“Her boyfriend? Oh, that´s rubbish! Nay…He couldna be…”, Jenny snorted, giving a quick scared look at his brother, whose face darkened with anger. “The lass is barely fifteen… and how old is he? At least 24 if no older…Surely no…”, her words died off as she recalled that Marsali´s mother had been exact the same age when she had gotten pregnant for the first time. Fifteen-year-olds could indeed have boyfriends, they even could be mothers.  
  
Jamie let out a string of Gaelic curses. Claire didn´t need to know a single word of Gaelic to understand he was cursing as his nostrils flare like a crazed bull’s. “That filthy bastard…”, he then hissed between his clenched teeth and turned abruptly around, striding towards the door and completely forgetting his need for food and dry clothes.  “I´m gonna cut his balls off and shove ‘em down his throat!…”  
  
“Who´s Fergus?”, Claire asked, vaguely remembering that Jamie might have once introduced her to a young man with the name.  
  
“He´s Jamie´s friend. A French lad…”, Jenny gasped. “Holy Mary, Jamie´s gonna kill him.. I must go wi´ him”, she reached for her coat and ran after her brother. 

* * *

  
**As the door opened** it was as if the whirl of storm came in. Fergus barely realised what happened as he already was pushed against the wall, seeing Jamie´s furious face hovering just a few inches above his. “What the hell? Jamie?”, he yelped, fidgeting in Jamie´s iron grip.  
  
“Is she here?”, Jamie simply snapped, dragging Fergus towards him by his collar, but right at that moment he saw Marsali himself. The tiny hall opened straight into the living room and there was the missing lamb, sitting on the grey couch, wrapped into the blanket and the bowl of potato chips on her lap.  
  
“Da?!”, the girl gasped, her eyes rolling with surprise. “How?…W-What are ye doing here?”  
  
The television was on - apparently they´d been watching a talk show or a comedy as the studio audience was presently laughing and giving applauses. The cosy setting made Jamie´s blood boil even hotter. The two lovebirds had been watching bloody TV and eating snacks when he had strolled around the city, soaked to the bone and worried sick about her.   
  
“What am I doing here?”, Jamie repeated, his voice all ice and bite. He dropped Fergus on the floor and took a few slow steps towards his daughter. “I can ask ye the same question, lass! And I surely hope ye´ll got verra good answers.”  
  
At this point Jenny swept in through the open door, panting for breath. Despite of her good condition, she hadn´t been able to compete with Jamie as he had taken the stairs to the fifth floor apartment four at the time.   
  
“Aunt Jenny…”, Marsali gasped again and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. It was uncertain whether she shed the tears because of shame and guilt or simply because of anger of getting caught, but in any case she scrambled up and ran into her aunt´s arms, hiding her face in her chest so not to see her father.  
  
“We came to take Marsali back home”, Jenny opened her arms to her niece, but her posture was stiff and her voice remained firm. The atmosphere in the room was tense - to say the least. Jenny glanced at her brother, eager to leave immediately. “ We´ll talk to ye later, Fergus. Let´s go Jamie. We found the lass.”  
  
Jamie wasn´t so easily mollified, though. He stood still, his feet apart, scowling ferociously at Fergus. “Nay. I wanna have some answers first”, his voice was dangerously low. “Ye wanna tell me what´s going on between ye two?”, he asked, making the younger man sweat under his firm gaze.  
  
“B-bloody hell…Jamie…”, Fergus stammered. He had lost his hand in the car crash years ago and now he started to fiddle with his prosthesis as he often did under the stress. A deep red flush swept from his neck up to his face. “Nothing´s going on. Nothing. I mean I-I like your girl. W-we like each other… And we´ve just spent some time together, that´s all.” The more he talked, the stronger was his French accent - despite all the years he´d spent in Scotland.   
  
“Hmprh”, Jamie grunted and glanced at him from head to toe, as if measuring him for purpose. “Nothing, aye? Marsali seems to think ye´re her boyfriend. Ye´re a grown man, Fergus, and I´ve treated ye like kin. And she´s just… a wee lass… I could have ye arrested, it didna occur to yer filthy French mind?”  
  
“Leave him be! Ye´ll hurt him and ye´ll never see me again, I swear! I´m no a wee lass anymore”, Marsali cried out behind Jenny´s back. It seemed that she had gotten over with the first shock of her father´s appearance and regained her vigor.

Jamie´s hands were subconsciously bunching into fists and then opening again. He totally ignored his daughter, focusing rigidly on Fergus.  “I ask ye this only once… Have ye bedded her?”, he asked, his voice even lower.    
  
Fergus shivered, hearing Jamie´s ominous question and ran his hand through his unruly black curls. He usually was a well-spoken and quick-witted young man, but now he lost all his faculties and his self-confidence chipped away, piece by piece. “Non! Mon dieu!”, he gasped, watching at Jamie with big scared eyes. “No, I haven´t. Bordel de merde… Jamie, you have to believe me, man!”  
  
“Stop it, da! Ye´re so gross!”, Marsali screamed and tried to wriggle out of Jenny´s arms, but her aunt held her tightly. “What if he has… my sex life is no yer bloody business! Ye´re such a fucking hypocrite! Ye´d like me to stay a virgin until I was 30, but that doesna stop ye fucking yer precious Claire in all possible circumstances! No matter who hears ye!”  
  
“Marsali, ma chère, you must not speak to your father in such a way”, Fergus tried to sooth her, fearing that her outburst only made things worse, but it was a diluted attempt as he would have rather the floor swallow him.  
  
“I’ll speak to him any way I bloody want!”, the girl yelled as Jenny started to drag her towards the door.

“Yer sex life! Sweet bleeding Jesus…Ye´re fifteen, lass. Ye are no supposed to have a sex life!”, Jamie finally turned to look at his daughter. He was taken aback, trying to internalise everything Marsali had just said.    
  
“Ha! Welcome to the 21th century, da! And I told ye I didna want to move, didna I? Now ye ken why! I´d never see Fergus again. And I dinna want to live wi´out him!”, Marsali screamed herself into hysterics and finally managed to struggle herself free from Jenny´s grip.   
  
She flung herself into the arms of very confused Fergus, who clearly didn´t know what to do with the girl, clutching at his sweater with both hands like a person in danger of drowning clutches a spar.  “I love ye! I want to live wi´ ye! I could move in here! I love ye!”, Marsali sobbed against his chest.  
  
Fergus stood paralyzed, his hands falling helplessly by his side. He didn´t have the courage to even touch Marsali as Jamie was only a few feet away. Besides, it seemed that he was slightly shocked by her passionate declaration of love.   
  
“Jesus Christ!”, Jamie huffed and the two men exchanged a tentative glance, both equally abashed at the volume of her reaction.     
  
Luckily Jenny was present as she knew how to handle the teenage drama. Gently, she loosened Marsali´s fingers and pulled the weeping girl away from Fergus. “Marsali, lass. Ye´ll see Fergus again, I promise, but now we´re gonna take ye home. We´ve been all worrit, ye ken, and yer father has looked for ye the whole day. Even wee William waits for ye”, she murmured into her ear and determinedly started to walk her towards the door.   
  
Jenny gave Jamie a silent, meaningful look over her shoulder which left him no alternative but to follow his sister and his stumbling daughter, who was still weeping like a mortally wounded animal.  Before leaving the apartment, Jamie turned around and pointed his index finger at Fergus. He didn´t say a word, but the simple gesture and his severe gaze made Fergus swallow audibly. Yes, he knew, this was far from over.

* * *

  
**God only knew** how Claire hated waiting. That was what women have been doing through the centuries, she thought, feeling sorry for her sex along with herself. Waited. Home bound or hidden behind four walls. They´ve waited for their husbands to arrive from far away travels, waited for their children to come home safe in the evenings, waited for their babies to be born. Waited and hoped and feared.   
  
Today she had waited for Jamie to finally announce that Marsali had been found. Such a call never came. Instead she had answered his troubled messages throughout the day, trying to encourage her man. Now she waited for them to come home - if only Marsali had been with that French man, Fergus.  
  
Even more she waited for this monstrous day to end. She desperately needed to have a peaceful moment of solitude. To go to the bathroom. To lock the door. To take the test. See if there would be two pink lines or only one. Unnoticed, she had sneaked to the pharmacy, bought a pregnancy test and buried it in her handbag. It would have been easy to just go to the laboratory at her workplace, but she wanted to process the whole thing just by herself and take the home test first.   
  
She didn´t know how she had gotten through the day. After Jenny´s declaration of her possible pregnancy, it had been as if she had been partly out of her body and just observed someone else instructing the movers, unpacking the cartons and talking to people around her. Astonished, she had listened to her own voice, which sounded completely normal, even though her mind constantly went somewhere else as memories, fears and hopes swirled inside her head.  
  
When nobody noticed, she stopped to caress her flat stomach, wondering could it be true? Was there a real person growing already in her belly? Could she really be pregnant after all those years of trying in vain? She knew she hadn´t been especially careful with Jamie as she had thought it was so unlikely. She was now ten years older than she´d been with Frank and her most fertile years already lay behind her. Why would it happen now and not back then?  
  
Yet Jenny had been so certain, saying that she´d seen the symptoms and the glow so many times before. In addition to the group fitness classes, she instructed yoga and had special classes for pregnant women so admittedly she was used to seeing ladies at all stages of pregnancy. Let alone she already had three kids of her own and had suffered terrible morning sicknesses herself.  
  
“Do you think Jamie will be pleased?”, Claire had asked her while they still were in Jamie´s old apartment, trying to hide her insecurity.  
  
“Ye havena planned this?”, she had responded, surprised and her brown eyes piercing.  
  
“Well, no, not exactly. We haven´t really talked about… uh… this possibility. There has been so much going on…”, she had blushed, avoiding Jenny´s gaze and feeling stupid. Claire could almost read her thoughts - how a medical professional was able to get pregnant by accident? Yes, she knew, she definitely should have known better.   
  
“Weel, ye certainly have a house now that is big enough…”, Jenny had just blurted out, leaving her question unanswered and Claire wondering whether her comment was meant to be positive or not. She had become rather good friends with Jenny during the last couple of months, but still there were moments like this when she just couldn´t interpret her.

* * *

  
**“They´ve found her!”,** Ian was suddenly yelling upstairs and Claire nearly jumped out of her skin, coming back from her thoughts. “Jenny called. They will be here in half an hour!”  
  
“A Dhia!”, Claire breathed, noticing to her surprise that she was using Gaelic. “Hurry up then, guys! We have to get Marsali´s room ready.”  
  
Ian, Murtagh and Claire had concentrated to arrange the children´s rooms first - at least make the beds ready - which turned out to be a good decision as a hustle and bustle filled the house when Jamie finally came back with Marsali and Jenny. Marsali immediately stormed upstairs and banged her door shut. She refused to talk to any of them as she hurried by, but just held a handkerchief to her face, which was all swollen and spotted red.  
  
“So?…”, Claire pointed her opening at Jamie, observing his mood as he walked in after his daughter. He looked tired and weary.  
  
“So…”, he sighed. “I need a shower. And food. And castration”, he chuckled, kissing her forehead as he passed by. “No more bairns to this household…At least no more teenagers.. Ye hear me Joan, yer teenage years have just been cancelled! Sorry lass, no boyfriends for ye…”, he yelled to the twelve-year-old, who peeked out of the living room, curious to see her sister´s arrival.   
  
It was meant just as light joke, but in her present condition Claire shivered and she had to force a strained smile on her lips.   
  
_No more bairns…Jesus Christ. What if he´s determined not to have more children?_  
  
Claire hadn´t really considered that alternative and the thought filled her with cold anxiety. She had to concentrate on breathing steadily: you´ll be fine, don´t panic, just take the bloody test first!   
  
Absentmindedly, she listened to Jenny, who was explaining that Marsali had not even told Fergus she had left home and planned to stay with him.    
  
“She just did it on a whim…”, Jenny splurged, shaking her head. “I bet the lad was terrified as well, hearing her plans to stay wi´ him. Jamie talked to him on the phone once we stopped to buy pizza and Fergus swore he had no idea. But they seem to care for one another. Good heavens, ye´ll have yer hands full wi´ them. The lass has no Fraser genes, but she sure has a temper…”, she vividly explained, gesturing with her hands till Ian put a glass of whisky in her hands.  
  
Claire smiled shortly, throwing in an occasional “um hum” once in awhile. That was all she could do.   
  
Fortunately, Suzette took over the kitchen and conjured up a plentiful dinner for all of them. Joan and William were excited to have pizza, hotdogs and pasta salad for their first supper in the new home and even Jamie seemed to be in good mood after having a shower. It was cosy, noisy and just like Claire had always imagined an ideal family dinner with relatives would be. Murtagh was raising a toast for their new home, Ian was giving a speech and people were laughing and joking as the adversities of the day were behind them. Only Claire was silent and deep in her thoughts, eating her pizza slice by chewing slowly and with some difficulty.   
  
_Abortion? No, it simply isn´t an option. Not even if the pregnancy would cost me this relationship. I could never forgive myself–_  
  
“Claire, love, are ye alright?”, distracted from her depressing thoughts, she glanced at Jamie with surprise as she found him suddenly at her side. “I´m sorry I wasna here today”, he continued, stroking her back and twirling a piece of her hair around his finger.  
  
“It´s okay…I´m fine. Just tired. Quite a day, eh?”, she smiled vaguely, doing her best to conceal her feelings.   
  
“Och…Aye. Can hardly wait to get ye in our new bed… Even though I dinna ken if I´m able to do more than sleep tonight”, he chuckled gently into her ear. 

* * *

**Undoubtedly** Jamie was dead tired as he was snoring like an ox when Claire finally sneaked back to their bedroom downstairs. Well, she had prolonged her stay in the bathroom on purpose, hoping she wouldn´t have to face him. He could read her far too well and she just wasn´t ready. Not yet.  
  
Instead she had contemplatively watched herself in the bathroom mirror. The pale, bright lights seemed to pry open every wrinkle on her face. She looked rather young for her age, but still there were furrows and lines, telling that she wasn´t a young girl anymore.  
  
 _Dear Lord.. I´d be almost 40 when…_  
  
Yes. Two pink lines had appeared almost instantly. She was going to be a mother.


End file.
